


# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.? 



.=^^. 



t UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.! 



FUTUEE RECOGNITION 



FRIENDS. 



^ntcretJ according to the Act of Congress, in the year of our 
Lord, 1846, by John J. Kerr, in the Clerk's Office of the Dis- 
trict Court of the Eastern District of Fennsylvania^ 



/ 



W. S. YO0NG, PRINTEK* 



FUTURE RECOGNITION; 



THE BLESSEDNESS 



WHO DIE IN THE LORD.' 



2^2 t|^ 
/ 
REV. JOHN J. KERR, A. M. 

RECTOR OF ADVENT PROT. EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PHILADA. 



I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which 
are asleep. 

Now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know 
in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known, — St. Paul. 

HERMAN HOOKER, NO. 16 S. SEVENTH STREET. 

1847. 



^.i'«=^'\ 



While we attempt not to be wise above that which is writ- 
ten, we should attempt, and that most studiously, to be wise 
up to that which is written. Dr. Chalmers. 



The Library 

OF CONC upss 
WASHiNGlUN 



THIS VOLUME 

IS 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 

TO THE 

MEMBERS OF ADVENT PROT. EPISCOPAL CHURCH, 

PHlLADELPHlAj 

With a fervent prayer that the great Head of the church 

would accompany it with his blessing, for 

their comfort and edification; 

BY THE 

RECTOR. 



God, whose days are without end, and whose mercies 
cannot be numbered; make us, we beseech thee, deeply 
sensible of the shortness and uncertainty of human life ; 
and let thy Holy Spirit lead us through this vale of misery, 
in holiness and righteousness, all the days of our lives : 
That, when we shall have served thee in our generation, 
we may be gathered unto our fathers, having the testimony 
of a good conscience; in the communion of the Catholic 
Church; in the confidence of a certain faith; in the comfort 
of a reasonable, religious, and holy hope; in favour with 
thee our God, and in perfect charity with the world: All 
which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

The Order for the Visitation of the Sick. 



My hope is that I shall shortly leave this valley of tears, 
and be free from all fevers and pain; and, v^hich will be a 
more happy condition, I shall be free from sin, and the 
temptations and anxieties that attend it; and this being 
past, I shall dwell in the New Jerusalem; dwell there with 
^^men made perfect;'^ dwell where these eyes shall see 
my Master and Saviour Jesus; and with him see my dear 
mother, and all my relations and friends: — ^^But I must die, 
or not come to that happy place. Geo. Herbert. 



Almighty Godj with whom do live the spirits of those 
who depart hence in the Lord, and with whom the souls of 
the faithful, after they are delivered from the burden of the 
flesh, are in joy and felicity 3 we give thee hearty thanks 
for the good examples of all those thy servants, who, having 
finished their course in faith, do now rest from their la- 
bours. And we beseech thee, that we, with all those who 
are departed in the true faith of thy holy name, may have 
our perfect consummation and bliss, both in body and soul, 
in thy eternal and everlasting glory, through Jesus Christ 
our Lord. Amen. 

Burial Service of Prot. Episcopal Church. 



SOUTHEY. 



Oh! when a mother meets on high 
The babe she lost in infancy, 
Hath she not then for pains and fears, 
The day of wo, the watchful night, 
For all her sorrows, all her tears. 
An over-payment of delight? 

And to her who bore him, 
Her who long must weep, 

Yet shall heaven restore him \ 

From his pale, sweet sleep ! i 

Those blue eyes of love and peace again J 

Through her soul w^ll shine undimmed by pain. ^ 

Hemans. ) 



The deadj 

The only beautiful^ who change no more; 

The only blest; the dwellers on the shore 

Of Spring fulfilled. The dead! — whom call we so? 

They that breathe purer air, that feel, that know. 

Things wrapt from us. 

Hemans. 



PEEFACE^ 



The following pages are presented to the public, in 
the hope that they may not be altogether unproduc- 
tive of good. Their chief object is to minister con- 
solation to those who mourn the decease of friends; 
— to direct the Christian in some of those trains of 
thought which he is wont to pursue in looking for- 
ward to " the recompense of reward ^' — the scenes 
of his happiness in a better world. 

In elucidating the subject, free use has been made 
of most of the treatises on the same topics within 
the author's reach. Those who have an opportunity 
of comparing will perceive, that in several points, 
both in the sentiments advanced, and in the authori- 
ties cited, there is a coincidence of thought, and not 
unfrequently of language, with a treatise on the same 



XU PREFACE. 

subject by the Rev. Mr. Muslon. Indeed^ it would 
be unjust to suffer this to go forth without a distinct 
acknowledgment of indebtedness to that able and 
comprehensive work. 

In the discussion of the subject, the author has en- 
deavoured to avoid every thing that might savour of 
extravagant conjecture; and believes that his state- 
ments and conclusions are borne out either by the 
direct or indirect authority of the sacred Scriptures. 
And as the work is the hasty effort of some hours 
snatched from the many and pressing cares of a pa- 
rish, he hopes that those who are best qualified to 
appreciate his sentiments, will treat with candour the 
attempt to elucidate this interesting branch of Chris- 
tian consolation. But whether this hope be realized 
or not, if the work shall at all tend to soothe the 
anguish of a bleeding heart — to mitigate the pangs of 
a wounded spirit — to cheer the sick and the dying 
— to comfort the mourning survivor, by directing to 
the only source of consolation and peace: — or, if it 
shall in any degree incite the believer to greater di- 
ligence, and enlarge his conceptions of ^^ the glory to 



PREFACE. XUl 

be revealed/' the object for which it was written will 
be richly secured. 

" Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
Our rugged path to death, to break those bars 
Of terror and abhon-ence, Nature throws 
'Cross our obstructed way." 
Philadelphia, Dec. 1846. J. J. K. 



CONTENTS. 



-•- 



Chapter I. 
On death, . 17 

Chapter II. 
The intermediate state of those who die in the Lord; 24 

Chapter III. 
The final state of those who die in the Lord, . . 30 

Chapter IV. 
The blessedness of those who die in the Lord, . .51 

Chapter V. 
Mutual recognition of those who die in the Lord, a 

common sentiment, 67 

Chapter VI. 

The reasonableness of the doctrine of future recog- 
nition, 79 



XVI CONTEKTS. 

Chapter VII. 
Future recognition of friends taught in the Sacred 

Scriptures, 96 

Chapter VIII. 
DifHculties and objections, connected with the doc- 
trine of future recognition and perpetuated 
friendship, answered, 130 

Chapter IX. 
Consolatory reflections on the loss of Christian friends, 144 

Chapter X. 
Concluding remarks, 155 

Chapter XL 
Selected Poetry, 158 



CHAPTER I. 

ON DEATH. 

This world death's region is, the other, Ufe's: 
And here, it should be one of our lirst strifes. 
So to front death, as each might judge us past it: 
For good men but see death, the wicked taste it 

JoNSON. 

Death's but a path that must be trod, 

If man would ever pass to God. Parnell. 

It is said of an ancient philosopher, that, being 
asked what the life of man was, he answered not 
a word, either because he thought the question re- 
quired no answer, or because he would follow the 
custom of the age, w^hich, for the most part, con- 
veyed its instructions by gestures and symbolical 
representations. He therefore entered into an ad- 
joining chamber, and immediately passed out; causing 
his disciples thus to understand that the life of 
man is no more than a coming into the world, and 
a going out of it. " What is your life?^^ saith St. 
James. " It is even a vapour that appeareth for a 
little time, and then vanisheth away.'' Our frame 
is made of perishable materials. It is a curious and 
delicate piece of mechanism, admirably contrived, 
but, like other mechanical contrivances, wears with 
use, and must finally be destroyed by time. The 
animal fibre, while in a living state, is in perpetual 



18 ON DEATH. 

activity; the motions of the vital organs never 
cease; or the moment they do, there is an end to 
the life of the individual; and though the human 
frame contains a power of resistance to its own dis- 
solution, yet it must be remembered, that the prin- 
ciple of vitality is not only a supporting, but a de- 
stroying principle. It finally consumes the very 
body which, for a season, it preserves. 

Many are the remedies, that, under different names 
and forms, have been invented for the prolongation 
of life. But these, instead of being conducive to the 
end for v/hich they were designed, not unfrequently 
abridge the period of existence, stimulating the sys- 
tem into an excess of action, which prematurely con- 
sumes the power of life. Any agent, of w^hatever 
nature, that increases the activity of the vital powers 
beyond what is natural, or what the frame in a healthy 
state requires, or, which reduces the strength and 
activity below the standard of health, must equally 
induce debility and accelerate decay. To keep the 
system, therefore, in that degree of strength, and of 
sensibility to stimuli which is most in unison with 
the laws of nature, seems impossible, unless we could 
previously secure the corporeal fibre against the ten- 
dency to decay which is inherent in all organized 
matter; and which sooner or later manifests its force 
in the dissolution of man, as well as in that of all the 
animal and vegetable tribes. These have all their 
periods of beauty and deformity, of youth and age, 
of life and death. They come up and are cut down^, 
— »they are vigorous and alert, then motionless and 



ON DEATH. 19 

cold, — they are sensitive, and they soon cease to 
feel. 

To give therefore any thing like perpetuity to the 
life of man, seems impossible, unless we could infuse 
into his frame a durable principle of resistance to the 
consuming force of the never-ceasing internal and 
external stimuli, and slow but certain agency of time. 
Nay, we inherit a principle of dissolution from our 
great progenitor, whose eating of the fruit of the 
forbidden tree 

^* brought death into the world, 



And all our wo." 

The moment, therefore, we begin to live, we begin 
to die — our first step in life is a step towards the grave. 
Death is the fixed and inevitable consequence of life. 
*^^By one man sin entered into the world, and death 
by sin; and so, death passed upon all men, for that 
all have sinned.^ ^ '' The days of our years are three 
score years and ten: and if by reason of strength they 
be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and 
sorrow; for it is soon cut ofi", and we fly away.'' 

Though w^e are not able by the discovery of any 
remedy, or by the adoption of any regimen, to pro- 
tract our existence beyond the allotted period of 
threescore years and ten, yet, it is certain that it is 
often terminated within that period by our indiscre- 
tions and immoralities. All excess must necessarily, 
from its physical operations on our frame, render our 
lives either shorter than they would have been, or 
else bring upon us a degree of debility to which we 
should not otherwise have been exposed. For 



20 ON DEATH. 

though there be much pain and sickness against 
which no ordinary foresight can guard, and which 
no caution can prevent, yet no small part of our suf- 
ferings are of our own creation. If, according to the 
supposition of some, "a certain definite quantity of 
vital power be communicated to each of us, which, 
with a proper degree of caution in the use, would be 
sufficient to preserve us in moderate health, and if, 
instead of economizing this precious, and when lost, 
irrecoverable deposit, we expend as much of it in 
one day as ought to last us for ten, it is evident that 
such an improvident use of life must shorten its du- 
ration or accelerate its decay. If a spendthrift will 
not only lavishly dissipate his interest but his capital, 
it is plain that he is marching with perpetually in- 
creasing strides towards the brink of penury and 
wo. If a certain definite sum of animal gratifica- 
tion be not appropriated to each of us, yet it is cer- 
tain that the powder of producing it is subject to ri- 
gorous restrictions; that the sensation of the same 
pleasure becomes, by an almost imperceptible grada- 
tion, less on every repetition; and that consequently 
we ought not, if w^e wish to preserve the sensibility 
to pleasure with which we are endowed, prematurely 
to exhaust the power and consequently the stock of 
enjoyment by an inordinate frequency of indulgence.'' 
In this view, we perceive the temporal recompense 
of religion, that "godliness is profitable unto all 
things, having the promise of the life that now is^ 
and of that which is to come.^^ A rational piety 



ON DEATH. 21 

may therefore be regarded as one of the safest and 
least costly preservatives of a long and happy life. 

But, though there are few who are not convinced 
of the brevity and uncertahity of life, yet how small 
is the number who show forth the fruits of this con- 
viction in their lives! How few^ live as if they were 
soon to die! The uncertainty of our earthly tenure 
seems neither to damp the ardour of our vain and 
empty speculations,"-to moderate the eagerness of 
our unprofitable pursuits, — or to contract our schemes 
of avarice and ambition. 

We should consider that as life is short and uncer- 
tain, that our principal duty is to make the most of 
it, to leave as small a portion as possible without 
some useful and profitable employment. For not- 
withstanding its brevity, our fitness for the fruition 
of eternity depends on the use we make of our time, 
according to the circumstances in which we are 
placed, and the opportunities which we possess. No 
truth is more plainly taught in the sacred Scriptures 
than that our recompense in a future life will be pro- 
portioned to our diligence in this; that as we live, 
so shall we die; that as we sow, so shall we reap. 
Short, then, as life is, an eternity of bliss depends 
on the use we make of it, — on the good to which 
we render it subservient. How important, therefore, 
that we offer up the Psalmist^s prayer! "So teach 
us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts 
unto wisdom. '' The great business of life is to pre- 
pare for death, — is to be qualified for the inheritance 
incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. 

3"" 



22 ON DEATH. 

For death is only a point of separation between us 
and endless life. The way to immortality is through 
the grave. This consideration should render death 
an object of joy rather than dread; and, on the wdiole, 
more to be desired than deprecated. But, at the same 
time, from the everlasting interest which is con- 
nected with the event, it cannot but be an object of 
continual solicitude and unceasing care. 

Finally, We have said that the relation which the 
future life bears to this, is much the same as that 
which seed time bears to harvest. Though the har- 
vest cannot literally be said to be a continuation of 
the seed time, yet there certainly is a relation be- 
tween them of the closest continuity; for the fruits 
of harvest always bear a certain proportion to the 
quality and quantity of the seed sown. So, in like 
manner, the life to come being a continuation of 
this, is it not probable that w^e shall carry with 
us beyond the grave not only the stock of moral 
qualities which we have improved, but also the in- 
tellectual stores which we have acquired? For we 
cannot suppose that death w^ll separate that con- 
nexion w^hich now subsists between wisdom and 
virtue, piety and knowledge, an acquaintance with 
the works of God and obedience to his will. As 
therefore we cannot suppose that the knowledge 
which we acquire, any more than the virtues which 
we practise, will perish with us in the tomb, let us 
be diligent in the great work for w^hich we were 
sent into the world, — the cultivation of the mind 
and heart; let us work while it is called to-day^ 



ON DEATH. 23 

ever remembering that as we sow in time we shall 
reap in eternity, and that as we toil on earth we 
shall be rewarded in heaven^ by Him who, in the 
days of his humiliation, said to the man who had 
improved the talents committed to his care, " Well 
done, thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been 
faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler 
over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord.^' 



24 THE INTERMEDIATE STATE 



CHAPTER II. 

ON THE INTERMEDIATE STATE OF THOSE WHO DIE 
IN THE LORD. 

Still seems it strange, that thou should'st live for ever 1 
Is it less strange, that thou should'st live at all'? 
This is a miracle; and that no more. 

Young. 

What becomes of man after death? What is he, 
and where is he? Is he unconscious or conscious? 
These are questions which deeply interest us; and 
will lead us to consider the nature of the state into 
which we are to pass immediately after death. 

In the sacred scriptures, we are taught to regard 
ourselves as mortal, and yet immortal; as dying, yet 
deathless. When we die, our body returns to dust, 
whence it was taken, and our soul returns to God 
who gave it. As the bird, when its cage is broken, 
flies away to seek its liberty and pleasure; so when 
the body is broken by death, the soul soars above the 
heavens, where it finds rest and happiness. Yes, the 
day is coming when our tabernacles shall be dissolved 
— when the prison doors of the spirit shall be flung 
wide open, and the captive be set free. And oh ! if 
the captive be only redeemed by Christ, and washed 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 25 

in his blood, with what joy shall it hail the day of its 
release! How will it exult in its newly acquired 
liberty, and soar from these dull elements to realms 
of purity and bliss, — 

" With sunshine on its joyful way, 
With freedom on its wings!" 

When the earthly house of this tabernacle is dissolved, 
we have a building of God, a house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens. 

The soul of every man immediately after death 
has its proper place and state assigned, either happi- 
ness or misery, as the man has been righteous or un- 
righteous. Hence we read that Judas went to his 
own place, and that when Lazarus died he was car- 
ried by angels to Abraham's bosom, while the rich 
man lifted up his eyes in hell, being in torment. The 
period of the soul's existence in the disembodied state 
is of unknown duration. As it extends between 
death and the resurrection, it is different with differ- 
ent individuals, according to the age of the world in 
which they die. It may be short or long: but this 
is of no importance to our present purpose. What- 
ever be the duration of the soul's disembodied exis- 
tence, it must he in some place and state. 

Some think the spirit is no where; — that as a spi- 
rit has no parts, or extension, it has no relation to 
place. This, however, is a mere philosophical re- 
finement. We know that the spirit now bears some 
relation to place as it is confined within the body. 
And if it has now a local existence, why not also after 
death? Others suppose that it goes at once to its 



26 THE INTERMEDIATE STATE 

place of eternal abode — the righteous to the heaven 
into which they will be received after the resurrec- 
tion, and the wicked to the torment in which they 
wdll be confined for ever. 

Wherever and whatever paradise or Abraham's 
bosom may be, to which we are taught the righteous 
go immediately after death, one thing is certain, that 
they in some w^ay enjoy the presence of the Lord; 
for St. Paul says to be absent from the body is to be 
present with the Lord. And yet it must be equally 
certain that the soul in the disembodied state is not 
capable of that degree of happiness and glory which 
shall be revealed at the resurrection and final judg- 
ment. 

The condition of the man between death and the 
resurrection is different from his previous and ulti- 
mate condition. He exists in a disembodied or 
imperfect state. The larva and chrysalis states are 
passed, but the highest is not attained. ^Tis a state 
of expectancy, a looking forward to the coming of 
the Lord, to raise his vile body from the dead, and 
fashion it like unto his own glorious body, that he 
may enjoy his "perfect consummation and bliss 
both in body and soul.'^ 

There can be no doubt but that the soul of man 
was designed for, and adapted to a material body; 
and this is its natural and most desirable mode of 
existence. It thus began to exist, and after the final 
judgment wdll thus ever continue to exist. The in- 
termediate state is, therefore, no part of our original 
and natural course of being. 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 27 

We are taught, however, that notwithstanding 
the imperfection which characterizes the condition 
which immediately succeeds death, that it is yet 
preferable to the present. St. Paul says '' to depart 
and be with Christ is far better:^' and " to be absent 
from the body, is to be present with the Lord.^^ In 
whichever, therefore, of the mansions which Christ 
went to prepare for his people. Paradise may be, 
one thing is certain, that all the allusions of scripture 
warrant us in believing that the righteous imme- 
diately after death, and during the whole of their 
intermediate existence, are conscious, active, and as 
happy as their condition will admit in the presence 
of their Lord, and in the society of the redeemed. 
And one of the elements of their happiness is the 
anticipation of yet greater happiness, and brighter 
glory at the consummation of all things, when their 
bodies shall be restored, improved, immortalized, 
united to the soul, and conducted into " the joy of 
the Lord.'^ It is enough to know that immediately 
after death, the faithful shall be where Christ^s human 
spirit sojourned between death and the resurrection, 
— a place now lighted up by his soul-cheering pre- 
sence. It is enough to know that the intermediate 
state is a farther manifestation of that shining light 
whose orient beams fall on our path, but whose 
meridian rays are reserved for " the perfect day.^^ 
Enough, that it shall be a calm repose of the spirit, 
ere the archangel's trump shall summon it to join 
the hosts of the skies. Enough, that it shall be the 
first stage in that moral progress, in which the spirit 



28 THE INTERMEDIATE STATE 

is changed from glory to glory, never completing 
the number of its perfections in finding that it can 
attain to more. Enough, that we shall there fear 
no more, fight no more, fall no more; that the 
tongue shall never falter, nor the heart grow weary. 
Is not this a consummation devoutly to be wished? 
Job so regarded it, when he longed to be where the 
wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at 
rest. And St. John so viewed it when he heard a 
voice from heaven saying, "Write, Blessed are the 
dead who die in the Lord, from henceforth; yea, 
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their la- 
bours.^^ 

Bishop Taylor thus summarily gives us his views 
of the separate and final states of the righteous: — 
^^In (this) world we walk and live by faith: in the 
state of separation we live by hope; and in the re- 
surrection we live by an eternal charity. Here we 
see God in a glass darkly; in the separation we shall 
behold him, but it is afar oS*, and after the resurrec- 
tion we shall see him "face to face ^^ in the everlast- 
ing comprehension of an intuitive beatitude. In this 
life we are warriors; in the separation we are con- 
querors; but we shall not triumph till after the re- 
surrection.^^ 

It is scarcely necessary to observe, that this re- 
presentation of the intermediate state, which sub» 
stantially accords with the views of Bishops Burnet, 
Bull, Tomline, and other divines of the reformation, 
gives no countenance to that stronghold of Roman- 
ism — the supposed existence of a place " where the 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 29 

souls of those who die in venial sin are purified by 
fire from the corruption of their nature, and delivered 
from their sufferings by the interposition of the 
church.'^ The doctrine of purgatory, like the fables 
of the Greeks and Romans respecting their infernal 
world, is but a corruption of the truth, as well as a 
fiction of comparatively modern date. The prayers 
of the primitive church in relation to the holy dead 
were, in substance, that it might please Almighty 
God to complete their felicity ^ and to " hasten his 
kingdom/' It cannot be denied that the platonic 
notion of a purifying process in the nether world by 
fire began soon to appear in the church, and that the 
seed was thus sown of the monstrous superstition in 
question. It is our happiness, however, to be as- 
sured that the departed righteous '' are in joy and 
felicity," and that if they are not immediately pre- 
sent with the " Sun of righteousness," they yet may 
behold his distant glory, and feel incessantly the 
influence of his vivifying beams. Nor does such a 
view of their condition appear by any means to su- 
persede the solemnities of that judgment to come, 
which will fully display the character of God, in 
what alone can be called the retributions of his mercy 
and justice, when he shall doom the wicked to 
"everlasting punishment," and welcome the "righ- 
teous into life eternal." 



30 ON THE FINAL STATE 



CHAPTER III. 

ON THE FINAL STATE OF THOSE WHO DIE IN THE 
LORD. 

Shall I be left forgotten in the dust, 

When fate relenting, lets the flower revive? 

Shall nature's voice, to man alone unjust, 

Bid him, though doom'd to perish, hope to livel 

Is it for this, fair virtue oft must strive 

With disappointment, penury, and painl 

No, heaven's immortal Springs shall yet arrive, 

And man's majestic beauty bloom again. 

Bright through the eternal year of love's triumphant reign. 

Beattie. 

In the previous chapter, we have seen that the 
intermediate state, with all its joys and pleasures, 
is imperfect, — imperfect, because, apart from the 
body, man is an imperfect creature, incapable of the 
full enjoyment of his nature. This accounts for the 
fact, which must have struck every one who has 
carefully read the New Testament, that its writers 
continually direct our attention to the second ad- 
vent of Christy as the grand event in which all 
our hopes centre. Instead of being taught to 
look forward to our decease with joyful anticipation, 
the second coming of our Lord is the event for which 
we are to pray, and stand prepared. Open almost 
any of the apostolic epistles, and you will find it to 
abound in promises and exhortations touching the 
event in question. Thus, for example, when St. 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 31 

Paul entreats the Philippians to be followers of him- 
self, the motive which he sets before them is, " For 
our conversation is in heaven, from whence also we 
look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ; who 
shall change our vile body, that it may be fashioned 
like unto his glorious body, according to the work- 
ing whereby he is able even to subdue all things 
unto himself" When he would excite the Colos- 
sians to greater spirituality, to mortification of their 
sensual appetites, the argument with which he en- 
forces his appeal is, " When Christ, who is our life, 
shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in 
glory.'' When he would console the Thessalonians 
under bereavement, and teach them that they, as 
Christians, had no cause to sorrow for their dead, 
as others who were without hope, — though this, of 
all others, would have seemed a fit opportunity for 
speaking of the soul in the intermediate state, show- 
ing that it is happy, and that consequently death is 
the cause of pleasure to the believer — still he turns 
to the same engrossing subject, which seems indeed 
to have taken exclusive possession of his mind, and, 
omitting all mention of what is to intervene between 
death and the resurrection, exclaims, " For the Lord 
himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with 
the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of 
God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we 
which are alive and remain shall be caught up to- 
gether with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in 
the air, and so shall we be ever with the Lord. 
Wherefore comfort one another with these words.'^ 



32 ON THE FINAL STATE 

The same striking characteristic distinguishes the 
epistles of St. James, St. Peter, and St. John. " Be 
patient, therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the 
Lord.^^ "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, 
and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we 
know that when he shall appear, we shall be like 
Him; for we shall see Him as he is.^' Such are the 
exhortations which the apostles severally address to 
the whole body of believers. 

But why is it that the attention of the children 
of God is thus almost exclusively directed to one 
object, the second advent of Christ? Why is death, 
and the condition of the soul immediately after 
death, comparatively disregarded, passed over, as it 
were, in the survey of what the Christian shall be 
hereafter? The answer is obvious : the scriptures 
every where regard our " perfect consummation and 
bliss, both in body and soul,^^ as the great end to- 
wards which we are tending, and for which we live 
and die. Hence all that is preliminary and inter- 
mediate, are only so many steps by which the great 
end is to be attained; and consequently, their con- 
sideration is omitted as comparatively unimportant. 
So Moses, when he stood upon the summit of Pisgah, 
took no note of the scenes immediately around him. 
It was to the land of promise that his eye was eagerly 
directed. It was the hills, and plains, and opening 
glades of Canaan, that he hailed in distant prospect. 
And thus the eye of faith, while it looks forward, 
pauses not upon any thing that is intermediate and 
secondary, but glancing over the dark valley on 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 33 

which the shadow of death is brooding, — glancing 
over all that intervenes between the present and the 
glorious future, — rests satisfied at last upon the ful- 
ness of joy, and exuberance of bliss which await the 
soul reunited to the body, at the second coming of 
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 

When, therefore, we remember that man was 
created neither as an angel, of a nature altogether spi- 
ritual and heavenly, nor simply of matter, as the sun 
or stars, but a compound being, oi matter and spirit y 
it is a self-evident truth, that unless the body par- 
take of the same happiness as the soul, man cannot 
be absolutely or perfectly happy. The resurrection 
of the body, in which the glorious truth is declared, 
that the whole man triumphs over death, is one of 
the noblest and most interesting mysteries of our holy 
religion. The wisdom of the w^orld, with all its 
boasted lights, and heathen philosophy, with all its 
subtilties, could never attain to the knowledge of this 
comfortable doctrine. But, though reason cannot 
discover this glorious truth, yet as soon as enlight- 
ened by grace, it perceives all its consolations, and 
acknowledges its necessity. 

In various ways are we taught the fact, nay, the 
necessity of the resurrection of the body. In the 
first place, it may be stated that God made not a 
covenant with a part of man, but with the whole 
man^ as he is composed of soul and body; therefore, 
the body must needs rise, that it may partake of the 
glory and happiness implied in the covenant. Be- 
sides, we read that God is not only the Father of spi- 

4* 



34 ON THE FINAL STATE 

rits (Heb. vi, xii. 9,) and the God of the spirits of all 
flesh, (Num. xvi. 21,) but he styles himself in gene- 
ral, the God of Mraham^ and of his seed, Gen. xvii. 
7. He is not only the God of the soul, or of the body 
alone, but of the entire person of believers. With 
this argument Christ opposed the Sadducees, who 
denied the resurrection :^ — "Have ye not read that 
which was spoken unto you, by God, saying, I 
am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and 
the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, 
but of the living,'' Matt xxii. 31, 32. Again; " God 
hath adopted us by Jesus Christ to himself, according 
to the good pleasure of his will,'' (Eph. 1.) to make 
us the heirs of his kingdom, and joint heirs with his 
Son, Rom. viii. 17. From this we may gather an 
assured hope of the resurrection ; for when the Father 
of mercies shall behold our bodies lying in the dust, 
he will take compassion upon them, and say, " These 
are the bodies of my children, the members of my 
dear Son; it is not just that I leave them for ever in 
this state of ignominy and corruption, nor will my 
fatherly tenderness sufier it." It was doubtless this 
consideration that caused St. Paul to call the redemp- 
tion of our bodies by the name of adoption; for by 
that he assures us, that God will bring out of their 
graves the bodies of all them whom he hath adopted, 
and that our resurrection is the effect and necessary 
consequence of our adoption. Besides, our Saviour 
himself speaks of it as the same thing, to be the child 
of God, and the child of the resurrection, Luke xx. 36. 
Again; death considered in itself is the wages of sin^ 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 35 

Rom. vi. 23, — the punishment of our crimes. But 
Christ has made satisfaction for sins with respect to 
believers, and consequently their bodies must needs 
rise again. Besides, if death held our bodies in the 
grave, it could not be said that Christ had swallowed 
up death in victory, 1 Cor. xv. 54, and that he is the 
destruction of the grave, Hosea xiii. 14, since death 
and the grave would remain victorious over our mi- 
serable bodies. 

Again; the Saviour suffered both in body and soul, 
and thus purchased to himself both our souls and 
bodies ; nay, the express language of inspiration is, 
" Ye are bought with a price, therefore glorify God 
in your body and in your spirit, which are God's,'^ 
1 Cor. vi. 20. Finally, as God the Holy Ghost hath 
sanctified our bodies, and made them his temples, 
1 Cor. iii. 16, we infer the resurrection as a necessary 
consequence: for, we cannot suppose that God will 
suffer the temple of his holiness to lie in perpetual 
ruin and desolation : he will most assuredly rebuild 
the pavihon of his glory, cast down by death. 

To the end that the resurrection may appear less 
unaccountable, God has been pleased to give many 
images and types of it in nature; as, for example, 
when the sun goes down, and the earth is covered 
with the dark shadows of night, man's declining, and 
the darkness of the grave, are represented. And when 
the moon loses all her light and splendour, and co- 
vers herself with a veil of darkness, it is " the image 
of death, and represents to us that veil which it draws 
over our eyes; but when, by reason of the sun's as- 



36 ON THE FINAL STATE 

pect, it resumes its former brightness and glory, it 
discovers to us, in some measure, that which shall 
happen to our bodies, when the Sun of Righteousness 
shall dart upon them the rays of his countenance. 

"Spring, summer and autumn, pass away succes- 
sively, and winter represents to us the horrors of the 
grave; but when the sun begins again his race, and 
clothes the earth with new verdures, we have a most 
lively picture of the resurrection. 

" The trees, that are in winter without flowers, fruit 
or leaves, discover to us the most hideous and fright- 
ful aspect of death, that strips man's body of every 
thing that is beautiful and charming. But when the 
same trees flourish again, and are adorned with fresh 
leaves and fruit, they put us in mind of the blessed 
resurrection of our bodies. 

" The seeds that corrupt and perish in the earth, are 
a lively im.age of the body's corruption and perishing 
in the grave; but when these seeds appear above 
ground and flourish, they admirably w^ell express to 
us the blessed state of our bodies rising again to new 
life and new beauty. This similitude the Son of God 
himself recommends to us, 'Except a corn of wheat 
fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if 
it die, it bringeth forth much fruit,' John xii, 24; 
and the apostle St. Paul insists at large upon this com- 
parison; w^hence he takes occasion to cry out against 
the stupidity of those who will not believe that a dead 
body can be restored to life, ' Thou fool, that which 
thou sowest is not quickened except it die,' 1 Cor. 
XV. 36. 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 37 

"What is still more wonderful, there are certain 
plants which rise again out of their own ashes. For 
example, if you burn mug-wort, and cast the ashes 
upon the earth, you shall see the same herb grow 
again, as hath been found by the experience of many. 
The same is reported of a kind of palm-tree; and be- 
cause in the Greek tongue the same word signifies 
both a palm and a phoenix, this experiment hath given 
occasion to the fable of the phoenix, a bird that is said 
to revive again out of its own marrow and ashes. 
Who can deny but that this is an excellent image of 
the resurrection of our bodies? 

" There are also several insects that represent to us 
death and the resurrection; as the silk-worms, for 
when these little creatures have finished their work, 
and spun out that silk of which the robes and stately 
ornaments of kings and princes are made, they bury 
themselves in a tomb of their own raising, after which 
they become like to a small bean, under whose skin 
a white butterfly is formed. The same is observed of 
the caterpillars; for when they seem to be more than 
dead, they creep out of their little sepulchres in the 
form of butterflies, of such various and rich colours, 
that they charm the beholder; insomuch, that many 
curious persons preserve them in their cabinets,among 
their choicest rarities. 

"Among the beasts also, some seem to be dead for 
several months of the year, being without sense or 
motion, but afterwards they awake, or rather, they 
begin to live again, and to move about as before. 

"But we need go no farther than ourselves to find an 



38 ON THE FINAL STATE 

image of death, and of the resurrection. For is there 
any thing that can represent death more perfectly 
than our sleep, that stupifies our senses, puts a stop to 
the functions of the mind, and restrains our most ac- 
tive faculties, insomuch that we have eyes without 
seeing, ears without hearing, a nose that cannot smell, 
and a body without feeling? On the contrary, when 
a person comes to awake, to open his eyes, to move 
and to act, what can be a more lively image of the 
resurrection? 

'^ But God hath not only pointed out the resurrec- 
tion by many illustrious types and figures, he hath 
likewise expressly foretold it by his holy prophets. 
Isaiah speaks of it in a most exalted manner; ^Thy 
dead men shall live, together with my dead body 
shall they arise: awake and sing, ye that dwell in the 
dust; for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the 
earth shall cast out the dead,' Isa.xxvi. 19: and nothing 
can be more clear than the prophecy of the prophet 
Daniel: ^And many of them that sleep in the dust of 
the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and 
some to shame and everlasting contempt,' chap. xii. 2. 

*^All the faithful of the Old Testament have openly 
declared their expectations of this glorious resurrec- 
tion from the dead. Witness this remarkable pas- 
sage of Job: ' I know that my Redeemer liveth, and 
that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: 
and though after my skin, worms destroy this body, 
yet in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see 
for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not ano- 
ther/ chap. xix. 25, 26, 27; and these excellent words 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 39 

of David, 'I will behold thy face in righteousness: I 
shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness/ 
Psal. xvii. 15. 

" Martha, the sister of Lazarus, was well acquainted 
with this comfortable doctrine, as appears from what 
she says to our Saviour: ^I know that my brother shall 
rise again in the resurrection, at the last day,' John 
xi. 24; and the Pharisees themselves made open pro- 
fession to believe the resurrection from the dead, in 
which they were contrary to the Sadducees, who de- 
nied both the resurrection of the body and the im- 
mortality of the soul: therefore when St. Paul was 
to answer before the Jews' tribunal, where the one 
part were Sadducees and the other Pharisees, he di- 
vides them by crying out, ^I am a Pharisee, the son 
of a Pharisee; of the hope and resurrection of the 
dead am I called in question.' Acts xxiii. 6. And 
when he makes his apology before Felix, the gover- 
nor, he speaks in this manner: ^After the way which 
they call heresy, so worship I the God of my fathers, 
believing all things which are written in the law and 
the prophets; and have hope towards God, which 
they themselves also allow, that there shall be a re- 
surrection of the dead, both of the just and unjust/ 
Acts xxiv. 14, 15. 

'^ But this article of the resurrection of the dead, 
which is found in some few passages of the Old Tes- 
tament, is to be seen almost in every page of the 
New, and the testimonies concerning it are so plain 
and express, that it is not possible to reject this 
wholesome doctrine, without abjuring, at the same 



40 ON THE FINAL STATE 

time, the Christian religion, and giving the lie to the 
Holy Ghost. 

"That our faith may be every way established, God 
has been pleased, not only to publish the resurrection 
from the dead by his prophets and apostles, and to 
discover to us many excellent images and symbolical 
representations of it; but to give us undeniable testi- 
mony of his power, he hath raised several from the 
dead. In the Old Testament, he raised up two chil- 
dren, one at the prayer of the prophet Elijah, 1 Kings 
xvii. 22, the other at that of Elisha, 2 Kings iv.; like- 
wise the dead body, which being let down into Eli- 
sha's sepulchre, revived upon touching his bones, 2 
Kings xiii. 21. During our Saviour's abode upon 
earth, he raised to life the daughter of Jairus that was 
dead. Matt. ix. ; the widow's son of Nain, who was 
carrying out upon his bier to the grave, Luke vii.; 
and Lazarus, who had lain in the sepulchre four days, 
whose body began to stink, John xi. When this 
merciful Saviour yielded up the ghost upon the cross, 
the graves were opened, and many bodies of saints 
which slept, arose, and came out of the graves after 
his resurrection, and went into the Holy City, and 
appeared unto many, Matt, xxvii. 52, 53, After his 
ascension, he raised from the dead, Dorcas, a charita- 
ble widow, at the prayer of St. Peter, and to comfort 
the poor widows that wept. Acts ix.; and a young 
man, named Eutychus, whom he restored to life at 
the prayer of St. Paul, that the congregation of the 
faithful might be comforted, who were troubled at 
his fall and sudden death, Acts xx. 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 41 

" But, chiefly, we have the example of our Lord, 
who raised himself up by his own divine power. 
This glorious instance not only strikes us with admi- 
ration, but it also settles our faith, and nourishes our 
hopes. The resurrection of other persons shows 
what God can do, but that of Christ declares to us 
what he will do, and is a precious earnest of our fu- 
ture resurrection. It is not possible for us to believe 
as we ought, that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, 
without believing at the same time that he will one 
day raise us up. This St. Paul endeavours to en- 
force: ^If we believe that Jesus died and rose again, 
even so them also which sleep in Jesus, will God 
bring with him,' 1 Thess. iv. 14. As the head is, 
so shall be the members. As the first fruits are, so 
will be the harvest. This is what the same apostle 
teaches us in the 15th chapter of his first epistle to 
the Corinthians, in these excellent words: 'Now is 
Christ risen from the dead, and become the first fruits 
of them that slept. For since by man came death, 
by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For 
as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made 
alive. But every man in his own order: Christ the 
first fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his 
coming.' 

" The richness of this subject naturally gives birth 
to a great many important questions; an answer to 
which may help to set it in a clearer light. P'irst, it 
is asked, by whom, and by whose power this resur- 
rection shall be efiected.^ The Scripture itself gives 
occasion to this inquiry; for sometimes it ascribes it 
5 



ON THE FINAL STATE 



to God the Father, as in John^ chap. 5, ^The Father 
raiseth up the dead, and quickeneth them/ ver. 21; 
sometimes to the Son, as in Phil. chap. 3, 'Jesus Christ 
shall change our vile body, according to the working 
whereby he is able even to subdue all things unto him- 
self/ ver. 21 ; and sometimes to the Holy Ghost, as in 
Romans, chap. 8, ' If the Spirit of him that raised up 
Jesus from the dead, dwell in you, he that raised up 
Christ from the dead, shall also quicken your mortal 
bodies, by his Spirit that dwelleth in you,^ ver. IJ. 
But this difficulty is easily solved; for all the exter- 
nal works of God, that concern his creatures, are 
common to the three persons of the most holy, most 
glorious, and most adorable Trinity; so that we shall 
rise again by the infinite power of the Father, Son 
and Holy Ghost. Nevertheless, the resurrection is 
more particularly ascribed to the Son, as he is judge 
of the quick and the dead; in which quality all power 
is given unto him in heaven and in earth. Matt, 
xxviii. 18. ^ 

'' Some inquire farther, when this resurrection shall 
be? I answer, that it shall be in the day which God 
hath appointed, in the which he shall judge the world 
in righteousness, by that man whom he hath ordained. 
Acts xvii. 31. You are not to expect, Christian 
souls, that I should tell you precisely the day when 
this shall happen; for it belongs not to us to know 
the times and seasons which God hath reserved to 
himself. It is true, we see that most part of the pro- 
phecies are already fulfilled; so that we may say in 
general, ' The Lord is at hand,' Phil. iv. 5. ' Now is 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 43 

our salvation nearer than when we believed,' Rom. 
xiii. 1 1. Nevertheless, I cannot undertake to point out 
to you this glorious day, nor to tell you the year, nor 
even the age w^hen it shall be. There is no man upon 
earth, nor angel in heaven that is able to speak of it 
with any certainty. This is what Jesus Christ him- 
self informs us, ' But of that day and hour knoweth 
no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father 
only,^ Matt. xxiv. 36; and whereas our Lord adds, 
' neither the Son,^ Mark xiii. 32, we must understand 
this to be spoken of himself, as he was a man during 
his abode in this world: for as he is God, he knows 
all things from all eternity; and even as he is man, 
he knows all things in that state of glory to which 
he is exalted; but he hath hid from us the time of 
his coming, that we may expect him at every mo- 
ment. Thus he tells his holy apostles, ' Watch, there- 
fore, for ye know not what hour your Lord doth 
come. But know this, that if the good man of the 
house had known in what watch the thief w^ould 
come, he would have watched, and would not have 
suffered his house to be broken up,^ Matt. xxiv. 42, 43. 
He writes in the same manner to the angel of the 
church of Sardis: ^ Remember, therefore, how thou 
hast received and heard, and hold fast, and repent. If 
therefore thou shalt not watch, I will come on thee 
as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will 
come upon thee,' Rev. iii. 3. The primitive Chris- 
tians were well acquainted with this doctrine, as we 
may conclude from that passage of St. Paul: ' But of 
the times and the seasons, brethren, ye have no need 



44 ON THE FINAL STATE 

that I write unto you; for you yourselves know per- 
fectly, that the day of the Lord so cometh as a thief 
in the night; for when they shall say, Peace and 
safety, then sudden destruction cometh upon them, 
as travail upon a woman with child, and they shall 
not escape,^ 1 Thess. v. 1, 2, 3. The time of the 
coming of the Son of Man, is likened to the days of 
Noah; for as the inhabitants of the world, before the 
deluge, were eating and drinking, marrying and 
giving in marriage, insensible of the flood, till it came 
and took them all away; so will it be at Christ's se- 
cond coming. See Matt. xxiv. 37, 38, 39. 

" Some farther inquire, what shall arise from the 
grave? To this it may be replied, the same body 
that falls by death, shall be the subject of the resur- 
rection. Should the Almighty form a new body, 
and unite it to the soul, this could not, with any 
propriety, be called a resurrection, but rather a new 
creation ; neither shall the soul at that time take such 
a body as its own, inasmuch as things only alike, are 
not the same, how remarkable soever that likeness 
may be. The very same body which the soul ani- 
mated during its abode here, shall then be raised 
and fashioned anew. As in the spiritual resurrec- 
tion, the Lord does not create a new soul, but quick- 
ens and sanctifies that which before was dead in tres- 
passes and sins, so in this corporal resurrection, God 
does not make another body, but bestows a renewed 
life upon that which lay under the power of death. 

" When our Saviour rose from the dead, he did 
not form for himself a new body, but his soul as- 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 45 

sumed and re-animated the same he had laid down; 
in like manner, at the general resurrection, he will 
not create new bodies for the children of men, but 
restore life to those bodies that had been lodged in 
the silent grave. This argument seems to be un- 
answerable, inasmuch as the resurrection of Jesus 
Christ is not only the efficient or meritorious cause 
of the resurrection of the dead, but it is also the pat- 
tern or model, or (as the schoolmen phrase it) the 
exemplary cause of this glorious privilege. But 
there is little need of arguments where the Scrip- 
tures are clear and express. St Paul, treating on 
this subject, says, ^ That the Lord Jesus Christ shall 
change our vile body, that it may be fashioned like 
unto his glorious body,' Phil. iii. 20, 21; and else- 
where, ^This corruptible must put on incorruption, 
and this mortal must put on immortality,' 1 Cor. xv. 
53. We read also of the life of Jesus being made 
manifest in our body, &c., 2 Cor. iv. 10, 11 ; and 
holy Job, in an early day, having a look to the re- 
surrection, spake of seeing God in his flesh, and 
with his eyes, &c.. Job xix. 26: nay, in some copies 
of the creed, called the apostles, and particularly the 
copy of Aquila, it is not only, I believe, the resur- 
rection of the flesh, but I believe the resurrection of 
this flesh. 

" Some may be disposed more particularly to in- 
quire concerning the qualities of the bodies of be- 
lievers after the resurrection? As to the substance 
of their bodies, it will probably be the same as in 
this life, real human bodies, not imaginary ones, 

5* 



46 ON THE FINAL STATE 

In the resurrection, the bodies of the faithful, like 
that of their Saviour, will be attended with glorious 
qualities, which they had not before; but the reality 
and true nature of their bodies will probably remain, 
upon which account they might use the language of 
the risen Redeemer, ' Handle me, and see; for a spi- 
rit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have,^ 
Luke xxiv. 39. As the soul does continue essen- 
tially the same, when perfectly freed from sin, cor- 
ruption, and every vicious inclination: so it is like- 
ly the body will remain the same, as to its essential 
parts, though wonderfully changed with regard to 
its qualities. Corruption and mortality will then be 
for ever cast off, with sickness, pain, and every other 
inconvenience which did attend it during this life. 
In a word, all bodily imperfections will be removed, 
all deficiencies made up, and the bodies of the saints 
rendered perfect and beautiful, without spot or ble- 
mish. 

"Before we close this subject, it may not be im- 
proper to take some notice of such who shall be 
found alive at Christ's second coming, and whose 
bodies will not be lodged in the silent grave. Of 
these the apostle speaks very particularly: ' Behold I 
show you a mystery ; We shall not all sleep, but 
w^e shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twink- 
ling of an eye, at the last trump; (for the trumpet 
shall sound,) and the dead shall be raised incorrup- 
tible, and we shall be changed,' 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. 
And in another epistle, ' For this we say unto you 
by the word of the Lord, That we which are alive 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 47 

and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not 
prevent them that are asleep: for the Lord himself 
shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the 
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; 
and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we which 
are alive and remain shall be caught up together 
with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the 
air: and so shall we be ever with the Lord; where- 
fore, comfort one another with these words,^ 1 Thess. 
iv. 15, 18. 

"Indeed, the apostle writing to the Hebrews, 
says, ' It is appointed unto men once to die.' If this 
passage be taken in its most obvious sense, the ge- 
neral rule must be supposed to admit of some ex- 
ceptions: but perhaps it may intimate, that this 
change will be a kind of death, at least equivalent 
to it; and the like glorious qualities will take place 
on the bodies of believers then found alive, as upon 
those which are then raised from the grave; so no 
difference will appear between the one and the other, 
but all equally made meet to partake of eternal feli- 
city. The bodies of the wicked also will be changed 
at the resurrection, and rendered like to those of the 
same character hauled out of their graves, all like 
immortal, to take their part in eternal misery. 

'^0 happy believer in the Lord Jesus! whatever 
the present condition of the body may be, take home 
to thyself the special consolations this subject does 
naturally afford thee. It is grievous that the body 
is imperfect as to any of its members, or deficient 
in any particular sense common to mankind, whe- 



48 ON THE FINAL STATE 

ther so born, or it be brought on by disease, acci- 
dent, &c.; cheer up under the thought, that this body- 
will hereafter appear in full perfection, and so abide 
for ever. Does age and sickness destroy the strength 
and beauty of the outer frame ? Consider the resur- 
rection will furnish thee with renewed vigour, adorn 
thee with perfect beauty, and be attended with eter- 
nal glory. 

" The body, though laid in the grave, will not be 
lost there, but found with great advantage at the re- 
surrection. As the patriarch Joseph, when leaving 
this world, commanded his brethren concerning his 
bones; so Jesus will give his sacred commands con- 
cerning the bodies of believers, and the different 
parts of them, that they may be delivered from the 
grave, that house of bondage and corruption, and 
safely conveyed to the celestial Canaan. When the 
tabernacle of old was taken in pieces, the high-priest 
committed the several parts of it to the charge of 
the Levites, and nothing was wanting when they 
came to set it up again; so the Saviour and high- 
priest of his people, will take proper care that no 
part of the earthly tabernacle, which he hath sanc- 
tified for himself, be then missing, but that the whole 
be produced and erected anew, and with greater 
glory than ever. 

" Who would not readily lay aside his over-worn 
garments at night, if certain of being clad with rich 
and royal attire in the morning? Who would not 
cheerfully lay himself down to sleep in his bed, 
could he safely depend upon waking and rising again 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 49 

with renewed health, vigour and beauty? Who 
would not joyfully relinquish a mean and miserable 
cottage for a season, that so it might be adorned with 
all the glory and magnificence of a splendid palace? 
believer, comfort thyself in the Lord Jesus, and 
contentedly cast ofi" at death this garment, the body, 
which is incommodious and troublesome on several 
accounts in its present state, assuring thyself thou 
shalt receive this same garment again, abundantly 
bettered and beautified, rendered white as the snow, 
and illustrious as the light. Let it not concern 
thee, that the earthly tabernacle will shortly be 
taken down ; for the Lord will build it up again, 
yea, convert it into a temple that shall stand for 
ever in all its glory. What though the several 
senses suffer decays, and the eyes in particular will 
soon be closed, no more to behold the light below? 
Grieve not at this, inasmuch as these eyes will be 
formed anew with additional beauty, and with them 
thou wilt behold the king in his glory, and behold 
him for thyself; or as the Psalmist expresses the 
same thing, behold his face in righteousness, when 
awaking with his likeness, Job xix. 27; Psal. xvii. 
15. The ears now, it may be, are almost deaf, and 
will soon be entirely stopped; but hereafter they 
shall hear, with everlasting delight, the harmonious 
songs of saints and of angels. The tongue, which 
now falters through weakness, and in a little time 
will speak no more, shall then be formed anew, and 
tuned for praise, joining in the melodious halle- 
lujahs of the blessed above. The hands, now weak, 



50 ON THE FINAL STATE 

shall then be made strong to receive, and for ever 
retain, immortal palms of victory. With the feeble 
feet, now scarce sufficient to support the body, thou 
wilt then follow the Lamb to the realms of glory, 
and travel the streets of the heavenly Jerusalem. 
In a word, the whole body, though laid in the grave, 
and turned into dust, shall then arise, and shine as 
the sun in the firmament, and in its fullest splen- 
dour. 

'' What hath the Christian to desire more ? At 
death, the soul goes to God, to Christ, to angels, to 
the spirits of just men made perfect, to share in their 
felicities. The body indeed is lodged in the grave; 
but here it will be attended with a quiet repose, at 
the end of which it shall rise again. The Lord will 
publish the grand jubilee, the prisons of death will 
all be opened, and the prisoners set free. The 
trumpet shall sound, and the dead in Christ be raised 
incorruptible, immortal and glorious. The Christian 
may humbly say. My heart is glad, my glory (or 
tongue) rejoiceth; my flesh also shall rest in hope; 
for the Lord will not leave it always in the grave, 
nor suffer it to abide under the power of corruption; 
he will show me the path of life, and admit me to 
his presence, where there is fulness of joy and plea- 
sure for evermore, Psal. xvi. 9, 10, IL 

"Then let not the actual, and sensible approach of 
death disturb the quiet of thy mind, shake thy faith 
and confidence in God, or drive thee from hope, that 
anchor of the soul both sure and steadfast, since fixed 
in heaven, where Jesus as the forerunner is for thee 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 51 

entered. Comfort thyself with the words of holy 
Job, 'I know that my Redeemer liveth^ and that he 
shall stand at the latter day upon the earth. And 
though, after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet 
in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see for 
myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another, 
though my reins be consumed within me,' Job xix. 
25, 26, 27. And with the words of St. Paul, ^We 
look for the Saviour from heaven, even the Lord 
Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body, that it 
may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, accord- 
ing to the working whereby he is able even to sub- 
due all things unto himself,^ Phil. iii. 20, 21.^' 

"But know that thou must render up the dead, 
And with high interest too! they are not thine; 
But only in thy keeping for a season, 
Till the great promised day of restitution ; 
When loud diiRisive sound of brazen trump 
Of strong- lung'd cherub shall alarm thy captives, 
And rouse the long, long sleepers into life, 
Daylight, and liberty." 



52 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 



CHAPTER IV. 

ON THE BLESSEDNESS OF THOSE WHO DIE IN THE 
LORD. 

Thrice happy world, where gilded toys 

No more disturb our thoughts, no more pollute our joys! 

There light or shade no more succeed by turns, 
There reigns th' eternal sun with an unclouded ray, 
There all is calm as night, yet all immortal day, 

And truth for ever shines, and love for ever bums. 

Watts. 

It is at once the privilege and duty of the believer 
to draw comfort and hope from the contemplation of 
the final blessedness of the redeemed. Though '^ eye 
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered 
into the heart of man, the things which God hath pre- 
pared for them that love him;'^ yet, so far as the Al- 
mighty has been pleased to reveal our future condi- 
tion, it is our interest to contemplate it, as Moses 
contemplated the '^ great recompense of reward,^' 
patiently waiting for the period when we shall no 
longer ^^ see through a glass darkly,'' but "face to 
face.'' 

Without, therefore, venturing to speculate on sub- 
jects which have been wisely concealed, or pre- 
suming to advance farther than the sacred scriptures 
warrant, we proceed to notice briefly some of those 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 53 

general representations of the " far more exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory/' which we are taught 
shall be the portion of the righteous when the 
" changes and chances of this mortal life are ended/' 
At death, the spirit of the believer, freed from 
toils and troubles, is borne by ministering angels to 
Paradise. 

" The spirit hid with saints above, 
The body in the tomb." 

And there it lieth till the archangel's trump shall 
break its slumbers, and call it forth, that Christ may 
^' fashion it like unto his own glorious body." St. 
Paul says, it is raised in incorruption — in glory — in 
power ^ a spiritual body. It is allied, in its essence, 
to the soul, composed of the most pure and active 
principles of matter, incorruptible in its organization 
like the diamond, splendid in its appearance like the 
sun, and rapid in its movements like the lightning, 
which bears in its course an image of the omnipo- 
tence of the Creator. 

The soul also purged from the least remains of sin 
— holy as God is holy — shall bear a resemblance to 
the perfection of God in whose image it was created. 
Its powers enlarged — its affections directed with un- 
ceasing ardour to the eternal source of love, we have 
reason to believe that it will enjoy the power of 
"unlimited excursion into the works, and if we may 
speak so, into the essence of the Deity." 

St. Paul, in speaking of the final state of believers, 
says, " It doth not yet appear what we shall be, but 
we know that when Christ shall appear we shall be 
6 



54 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

like him, for we shall see him as he is.'' The re- 
deemed shall dwell in the presence of God, who 
alone can fill the unlimited extent of their desires; 
they shall live in the delightful exercise of an eternal 
love, and in the full possession of all that can render 
them supremely blessed; for in Christ's " presence 
there is fulness of joy, and at his right hand there are 
pleasures for evermore." There they shall cease 
not celebrating in songs of ecstasy the infinite per- 
fections of God, and the boundless riches of redeem- 
ing love. And there, according to the emblematical 
language of St. John, they shall be seated on thrones^ 
and receive from His hands celestial diadems, for, 
saith the Spirit, " they shall reign with him for ever 
and ever." 

Nor let it be supposed that the absence of certain 
tastes and appetites which we here possess, and the ra- 
tional gratification of which is attended with pleasure, 
will in any degree detract from the happiness of that 
condition. If, indeed, some of these be annihilated, 
others of a higher and nobler character will take 
their place, others vastly better adapted to our then 
exalted state, the gratification of which will afibrd 
higher, more refined, and lasting pleasure, of the na- 
ture of which we have now probably no conception. 
How little does the loathsome worm, whose appetite 
is satisfied only with the grossest food, whose powers 
of locomotion are most imperfect, and whose form 
is without symmetry or comeliness, anticipate a day 
when, by virtue of new evolutions in his organism, 
he shall feed upon nectar, rise buoyant in the air, 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 55 

move with the swiftness of the wind, and be endued 
with a degree of beauty equalling that of the highest 
orders of animated beings. 

If human nature, notwithstanding its present gross- 
ness and degradation, is destined to such high im- 
provement and felicity, much more is it reasonable 
to suppose that the mansions of the redeemed are 
infinitely superior in splendour and glory to all that 
we now behold in the sublimest and most beautiful 
works of nature. When Christ shall appear the se- 
cond time, without sin unto salvation, what an un- 
utterable scene of wonder shall be disclosed ! But 
how shall we describe that which "eye halh not 
seen, nor ear heard, and of which it hath not en- 
tared into the heart of man to conceive?'^ It 
would require the talents of an angel, the colours of 
heaven, and a divine pencil, to represent the celestial 
city which hath no need of the sun, neither of the 
moon, " for the glory of the Lord doth lighten it, and 
the Lamb is the light thereof'^ " Could we suppose 
a mole that grovels in the earth, enveloped in abso- 
lute darkness, and circumscribed to a few inches, to 
be endued with the powers of vision and reason, and 
suddenly admitted to contemplate with the eye of 
Galileo, or the mind of Newton the splendours and 
boundless extent of the universe, its ravishments, its 
transports, its ecstasies would afford but a faint image 
of the raptures of the soul opening her immortal view 
on the glories of the celestial world.'' 

The glory, however, of the heavenly world con- 
sists not only in the vastly improved condition of 



56 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

human nature, and the external magnificence that 
adorns it, but also in the holy, benevolent, and social 
pleasures which there abound. There " the pure in 
heart see God'^ — there they "know even as also 
they are known ^^ — and there too they love without 
sin Him whom it was their supreme delight to love 
and serve on earth. If, as is sometimes the case, 
the devout believer in the celebration of the mys- 
teries of his holy religion, or in communion with 
God in prayer, enjoys such discoveries of the divine 
goodness as are almost too powerful for the feeble 
frame of flesh and blood what, what will be the 
manifestations of heaven! An almighty power — a 
celestial regeneration will be necessary to enable us 
to sustain the unutterable joy, the exuberance of 
bliss. 

It will not be the smallest part of the felicity of 
the redeemed to enter into the society, to partici- 
pate in the joys, and to receive the congratulations 
of those perfect spirits who have never fallen from 
their rectitude, and of the saints made perfect, who 
have already taken possession of their promised rest. 
" There is joy in the presence of the angels of God,^' 
saith Christ, " over one sinner that repenteth '^ — how 
much greater will be their joy when he has escaped 
the dangers of the world, when all his conflicts and 
temptations are past, and he has arrived at the end 
of his career, and entered upon the plenitude of his 
happiness? What high enjoyment to meet there 
his fellow travellers, to be restored to the objects of 
his sanctified afiection whom death hath torn from 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 57 

his fond embrace, to sit down, with Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob, and all the prophets, apostles, and mar- 
tyrs! To meet there the neighbours with whom he 
was wont to take counsel, acquaintance out of every 
Christian denomination, on whom, perhaps, he had 
been accustomed to look with distrust and jealousy? 
Nay, more, to meet there devout men like Corne- 
lius from every nation under heaven, and to see the 
grace of God infinitely more extended than those 
narrow limits which his prejudices had prescribed 
to it. What consolations must abound in the 
breasts of those who "are come unto Mount 
Zion, unto the city of the living God, the heavenly 
Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels; 
to the general assembly of the church of the first 
born, who are written in heaven, and to God the 
Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made 
perfect.^^ 

It would be improper here to overlook a simple 
and sublime view w^hich nearly all the sacred writers 
give of future blessedness, by representing it as 
consisting chiefly in the unclouded vision of God. 
The Divine presence is the very life of the soul. 
Whatever else may hereafter contribute to augment 
the happiness of the righteous, it is still the chief 
blessedness to say " the pure in heart shall see God.'^ 
^^ And what infinitely exceeds, and quite eclipses all 
the rest,'^ says Archbishop Leighton, " is that the 
boundless ocean of happiness which results from 
the beatific vision of the ever-blessed God, without 
which, neither the tranquillity they enjoy, nor the 
6* 



58 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

society of saints, nor the possession of any particular 
finite good, nor indeed of all such taken together, 
can satisfy the soul, or make it completely happy.'^ 
Nay, ^tis only when 

'* Heaven lifts its everlasting portals high, 
And bids the pure in heart behold their God," 

That the redeemed are supremely happy. 

The permanence or immutability of the final hap- 
piness of the just greatly enhances its value, and 
deserves our consideration. The power of God will 
place the redeemed beyond the influence of tempta- 
tion and sin, and the perfection of the heavenly state 
will for ever exempt them from all those causes of 
frailty and change that exist upon earth. The re- 
deemed become pillars in the temple of God to go 
out no more for ever, and know no change save that 
of continual progression in blessedness. The chief 
value of all our sources of enjoy ment here is destroyed 
by its instability. Nay, every thoughtful person must 
occasionally be pained and oppressed, by the contem- 
plation of the uncertain and fleeting character of the 
scene which surrounds him. He beholds every ob- 
ject mutable, disappointing all who expect perma- 
nent felicity, and piercing through with many sor- 
rows all who attempt to lean upon them. Nay, 
even the comforts which flow from our holy reli- 
gion are here variable and uncertain, because the 
sanctification of the believer is still partial and im- 
perfect. But in heaven, being perfectly holy, he 
shall be completely and immutably happy. Eter- 
nity is the idea that crowns and enriches the whole. 
There shall be no more death there. The felicitv 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 59 

of the saints, like the being of God, shall be inter- 
minable. Glorious truth! Well might the poet, 
on contrasting the fleeting and uncertain enjoyments 
of earth with the rich and enduring felicity of hea- 
ven, exclaim, 

" O ye blest scenes of permanent delight! 
Full above measure ! lasting beyond bound ! 
A perpetuity of bliss in bliss." 

"I would willingly, says one, "assist your mind 
to frame some measures of an immortal existence, 
but how shall we measure a subject that so far sur- 
passes our feeble conceptions? Number the stars 
that fill the sky — reckon the sands upon the sea 
shore — count the drops in the immeasurable ocean 
— compute the atoms that compose the globe — mul- 
tiply them by millions of years, and when this 
amazing succession of duration shall have been 
finished and repeated, as many times as are equal 
to its own units, eternity will be but beginning. 
Beginning! It cannot be said to be begun. It is 
wrong to apply any term which measures progres- 
sion to that which has no period or bounds.'^ 

In this astonishing and boundless idea the mind 
is overwhelmed. What a glory does it shed over 
the inheritance of the saints in light; and how 
strongly is it calculated to awaken the desires of a 
believer after the rest that remaineth for the people 
of God ! And how well is it fitted to console those 
who mourn over their friends who sleep in Jesus ! 
If, at any time, the mind is ready to sink under the 
weight of its sufferings, and to repine at the will 
of God, will it not become patient, and even thank- 



60 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

ful again, when it looks forward to that immortal 
blessedness to which every calamity that tends to 
crush this frail tenement of clay is only hastening 
our passage? " For our light affliction which is but 
for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at 
the things which are seen, but at the things which 
are not seen: for the things which are seen are 
temporal; but the things which are not seen are 
eternal. ^^ 

Another element in the happiness of the redeemed 
is its progressive character. The saints above, be- 
holding with unveiled face the glory of the Lord, 
^^are changed into the same ixndige froTn glory to 
glory.^^ Thus they make perpetual advances to- 
wards the perfection of the great Supreme. 

We perceive in the mind an expansive power, 
which even here seems to have no limit beyond 
what arises from the many external obstructions 
with which it has to contend in consequence of its 
connexion with an organization of flesh. All our 
mental faculties evidently improve by exercise up 
to the period in which the human frame becomes 
impaired by disease or the infirmities of age. And 
it is somewhat remarkable, that these impediments 
do not necessarily retard, but on the contrary, are 
often known to accelerate the progress of our moral 
principles. Our very sufferings often augment our 
moral power, consolidate our principles, and become 
so many instruments to promote our victory over 
every enemy. Are we, then, to suppose that death, 
which frees the soul from the trammels of a de- 



OP THE RIGHTEOUS. 61 

graded body, and makes it the subject of a new and 
exalted economy, will terminate its progress to- 
wards higher degrees of perfection and happiness ? 
God forbid. The analogies of nature, the constitu- 
tion of the human mind, and its susceptibility of 
pleasure from the impressions of novelty, teach us 
that the knowledge of the redeemed will increase 
with the progress of eternity. May we not, then, 
presume that the threshold of eternity will be the 
starting point whence the soul will pursue a new 
and more sublime career, maintained with aug- 
mented energy — with a movement which every 
successive period will tend to accelerate? Who 
can imagine the heights which may be ascended, — 
the worlds which may be explored, — and the de- 
gree of knowledge to which the heirs of eternal life 
shall ultimately attain ? God^s universe is immense; 
— and the Bible no where affirms that the conditions 
which succeed either death or the resurrection are 
the last or highest to which we are destined. Ana- 
logy teaches an opposite probability. Nor are the 
Scriptures silent on this point. We read that the 
^' just made perfect,^^ beholding the divine perfec- 
tions and glory with open face, are " changed into 
the same image ^om glory to glory. ^^ Man, then, 
is destined to unceasing advances, and innumerable 
stages of existence. Having attained to the resur- 
rection, is no reason why he should advance no 
farther and higher. There are some infinitely lofty 
mansions in our Father's house; and we may rise 
from one to another through infinity, thus continu- 



62 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

ally approximating to the nature of Jehovah, without 
ever attaining to his absolute perfection. 

" There is not, in my opinion/^ says a celebrated 
Essayist, " a more pleasing and triumphant consi- 
deration in religion than this, of the perpetual pro- 
gress which the soul makes towards the perfection 
of its nature, without ever arriving at a period in it. 
To look upon the soul as going on from strength to 
strength; to consider that she is to shine for ever 
with new accessions of glory, and brighten to all 
eternity, that she will be still adding virtue to vir- 
tue, and knowledge to knowledge, carries in it 
something wonderfully agreeable to that ambition 
which is natural to the mind of man. Nay, it must 
be a prospect pleasing to God himself to see his 
creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, and draw- 
ing nearer to him by greater degrees of resem- 
blance. 

"Methinks this single consideration of the pro- 
gress of a finite spirit to perfection will be sufficient 
to extinguish all envy in inferior natures, and all 
contempt in superior. That cherubim, which now 
appears as a god to a human soul, knows very well 
that the period will come about in eternity, when 
the human soul shall be as perfect as he himself now 
is; nay, when she shall look down upon that degree 
of perfection as much as she now falls short of it. 
It is true the higher nature still advances, and by 
that means preserves his distance and superiority in 
the scale of being; but he knows how high soever 
the station is, of which he stands possessed at pre- 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 63 

sent^ the inferior nature will at length mount up to 
it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. 

^^With what astonishment and veneration may 
we look into our own souls, where there are such 
hidden stores of virtue and knowledge, such inex- 
hausted sources of perfection? We know not yet 
what we shall be, nor will it ever enter into the 
heart of man to conceive the glory that will be al- 
ways in reserve for him. The soul considered with 
its Creator, is like one of those mathematical lines 
that may draw nearer to another for all eternity 
without a possibility of touching it: and can there 
be a thought so transporting, as to consider our- 
selves in these perpetual approaches to Him who is 
not only the standard of perfection but of happi- 
ness?'^ 

But if the progress of a single soul toward de- 
grees of perfection, higher and higher, is a subject 
of sublime contemplation, the interest which it 
awakens is greatly increased by contemplating it 
in reference to the social character and condition of 
the celestial inhabitants. ^^ For since perfect love 
will animate them as with one spirit, and bind 
them together in one vast fraternity,'' no one 
is to be regarded as existing merely in an indivi- 
dual or insulated capacity. *^ The golden and invi- 
sible chain of charity will attach each to the rest, 
and all to God." Whatever approximations, there- 
fore, they may individually make, in the progress of 
eternity, to the Divine image — whatever accessions 
may be thereby brought to their power and holiness 
—whatever new discoveries may be laid open to 



64 ON THE BLESSEDNESS 

their minds in the pursuit of truth, and in the con- 
templation of the Deity— whatever expansion there 
may be in the energy and beauty of the moral, intel- 
lectual, and sentient principles of their nature, must, 
in the same proportion, strengthen the bonds of their 
amity, and enhance the pleasures of their fellowship. 
Oh! had we a seraph^s fire and an angePs tongue, 
vain would the attempt be to give an adequate de- 
scription of the glory and happiness which must flow 
in upon a body of perfect beings, containing within 
itself such a principle of uniform, endless, and acce- 
lerating progress in every feature of intrinsic worth 
and power. But if, amidst all the imperfections of 
the present life, the friendship of the good brings 
with it, a blessedness proportioned to their know- 
ledge and conformity to the Divine image, what un- 
speakably delightful results may not be expected to 
emanate, in the progress of interminable ages, from 
their intercourse in a world where there will be 
nothing to tarnish the purity, or damp the ardour of 
the ajQTections, and where the unveiled presence of 
God will ever spread over all a sublime and trans- 
forming influence! How may we suppose they will 
grow in sentiments of mutual esteem, as the moral 
beauties of their character unfold with the lapse of 
time! How must their love to one another, and 
above all, to the Supreme Father, be increased by 
interchanges of kindness, maintained and quickened 
through the ages of eternity! How must the social 
attractions of such a family, " having the great God 
for its father,'^ be strengthened and multiplied, as its 
members advance in wisdom, power, and loveliness! 



OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 65 

What reciprocations of grateful and baneficent cha- 
rities! What mental associations, accumulating, 
brightening, and growing in intensity of interest! 
What high-born feelings, and god-like services! 
What combinations of beauty, and prospects of bliss, 
increasing with the progress of eternity,must be found 
amongst intelligences, who will dwell for ever in the 
presence of God, and receive out of his inexhaustible 
fulness fresh and never-failing accessions to the ex- 
cellence and plenitude of their nature! 

Every view of future happiness gathers, at the 
same time, fresh and peculiar interest around itself, 
especially when we look at it through the medium 
of the doctrine which we purpose to exhibit in the 
following pages. What a moment of intense, accu- 
mulated, and diversified emotion must that be which 
w\\\ bring together the entire family of the redeemed ! 
What a flow of joy will be produced by the 
confluent streams of all past and future times! 
What a simultaneous burst of gratitude will pro- 
ceed from the faithful, on finding themselves com- 
plete in number, and individually perfect in the Di- 
vine image! And how sublime are the intimations 
of Scripture on the subject! The command is issued 
from the throne — " Praise our God, all ye his ser- 
vants, and ye that fear him, both small and great.^' 
And there is heard ^' the voice of a great multitude, 
and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of 
mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia! for the Lord 
God omnipotent reigneth.'^ 

"These,'^ as one saith, "are the visions of faith; 
7 



66 BLESSEDNESS OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 

and though, compared with the reality, they must 
be exceedingly indistinct, Ihey may well extort from 
the believer the exclamation of the beloved disciple, 
^^ Behold what manner of love the Father hath be- 
stowed on us, that we should be called the sons of 
God.'^ He that has a pure and rational hope of re- 
alizing such prospects, possesses a principle which is 
an anchor to the soul, keeping it '^ sure and steadfast'' 
amidst the storms of life, and inspiring it with a holy 
confidence in the hour of death. What a " high vo- 
cation,'' then, is that of the Christian? However 
obscure his station, or profound the contempt with 
which the wicked may be disposed to regard him, 
he is an heir of immortality. He stands upon an 
eminence exalted in proportion to the humility of 
his mind, and whence he may truly look down upon 
all the pageantry of the earth — upon its brightest 
diadem — as an object immeasurably beneath him. 
Let him fix therefore the eye of his faith upon " the 
recompense of reward," and carry the vision with 
him into every scene and relation of life. "Thus will 
he acquire a consciousness of the moral dignity of 
his destination, which will help him patiently to 
bear his afflictions, keeping alive in his bosom an 
ambition whose character is as pure as the object is 
elevated at which it grasps." 

The social character of the future happiness of the 
righteous, involving recognition of each other, and 
perpetuated friendship, will be treated at large in the 
following chapters. 



RECOGNITION A COMMON SENTIMENT. 67 



CHAPTER V. 

MUTUAL RECOGNITION OP THOSE WHO DTE IN THE 
LORD A COMMON SENTIMENT. 

Unhappy he! who from the first of joys, 

Society, cut off, is left alone 

Amid this world of death. Thomson. 

When musing on companions gone 

We doubly feel ourselves alone. Scott. 

Whether we shall know again our friends and 
neighbours^ and recover their society in the better 
world, is an inquiry in the solution of which every 
heart which glows with the feeling of virtuous friend- 
ship, or bleeds under recent bereavement, must surely 
feel a deep and lively interest. Nay, the inquiry is 
one of universal interest. It connects itself with the 
best feelings of the heart. To suppress the common 
thoughts on this subject, and to smother the general 
feeling, would be to sever some of the tenderest ties 
which bind us to the invisible world, and destroy 
some of the most deep-seated sentiments of the soul. 
The fond hope of meeting and recognising beyond 
the grave those who were near and dear to us on 
earth, soothes the anguish of bereavement, and helps 
the pious to look forward with composure, if not 



68 FUTURE RECOGNITION 

with joy, to death and the better world. Nay, this 
hope, whether-vvell founded or delusive, seems, at 
times, to be almost the only consolation which can 
support the fainting spirit, and cheer the bleeding 
heart, w^hen mourning the loss of those, who, during 
life, occupied next to God, the highest place in our 
affections. 

If this hope, so generally indulged, can be shown 
to rest on valid ground, it is at once rich in practical 
instruction, and replete with comfort. It mingles, 
as it were, heaven with earth, imparting peculiar en- 
dearment and sanctity to all social relations, founded, 
as all ought to be, in love to the Saviour. It esta- 
blishes an important link between time and eternity, 
in addition to others by which the Almighty has been 
pleased to unite them. " The realities of that bright 
and happy region into which the righteous are in due 
time to be gathered, are objects of faith, and as such 
they must continue to be, until they are hereafter 
placed'^ {My and sensibly before the eye of the be- 
liever. '^ But our conceptions of the future world 
are quickened and brought more completely home 
to the business and bosom of man, by the persuasion 
that the living materials, with which it is in part to 
be replenished, are placed in direct display before 
his senses. It surely cannot diminish his interest in 
it to know that he hears the voices, and beholds the 
persons/' of the very beings who are hereafter to be 
associated with him, and to be recognised by him as 
his former companions on earth. ^' To live, indeed, 
with such prospective associations, on terms of close 



A COMMON SENTIMENT. 69 

fellowship with them, and to realize, in the satisfac- 
tions resulting from their friendship, the pledge of 
future bliss, cannot be otherwise than animating cir- 
cumstances, fitted to familiarize the unseen world to 
our minds, without degrading it, and to further the 
work of preparation for its elevated pleasures and 
dignified services.'^ 

Upon the solution of the interesting question be- 
fore us will likewise depend, in some measure, the 
degree of regard which is due from Christian kin- 
dred and companions to each other in this life. "I 
must confess, as the experience of my own soul,'' 
says Baxter, "that the expectation of loving my 
friends in heaven principall}^ kindles my love to 
them on earth. If I thought that I should never 
know them, and consequently never love them after 
this life is ended, I should in reason number them 
with temporal things, and love them as such. But 
I now delight to converse with my pious friends, in 
a firm persuasion that I shall converse with them for 
ever; and I take comfort in those of them that are 
dead or absent, as believing I shall shortly meet them 
in heaven, and love ihem with a heavenly love that 
shall there be perfected." 

This seems to be a proper sentiment to be cherished 
by every devout mind. It is both natural and im- 
proving, and has a tendency to loosen the hold of 
the world on our affections by combining them with 
those of the heavenly state, and treasuring them 
there. 

It is admitted that the doctrine of renewed friend- 



70 FUTURE RECOGNITION 

ship beyond the grave is a common and prevalent 
sentiment. It is peculiar to no age or people. It 
has been every where maintained co-extensively with 
the doctrine of the soul's immortality. In the writings 
of heathen poets and philosophers, we meet with it, 
blended, it is true, with much fancy and fable; and 
are thus incidentally reminded of the superior ad- 
vantages which we enjoy in the possession of that 
holy volume in which life and immortality are 
brought to light. The notions of the heathen, how- 
ever, (received by tradition from the immediate de- 
scendants of Noah, and occasionally, perhaps, modi- 
fied by the special revelations vouchsafed to Israel,) 
favour most decidedly the hope of perpetuated friend- 
ship. It was supposed by many of them, to use the 
language of another, that the departed found some 
common place of residence, where they mingled to- 
gether, and were alive to high degrees of pleasure 
or pain, according to their respective character in 
antecedent life. They were represented to be ad- 
vanced in intellectual power and knowledge, to be 
governed by the impulse of human sympathies, to 
retain a distinct consciousness of their identity, and 
to remember the chief scenes and events with which 
they were familiar on earth, as well as the persons 
with whom they were wont to associate. Nay, the 
moral habits contracted by the soul, during its im- 
bodied state, were supposed to survive the event of 
dissolution, and, acquiring augmented energy, to con- 
stitute the chief source of its torment or bliss in the 
regions of the dead. 



A COMMON SENTIMENT. 71 

The works of the immortal Homer abound in al- 
legorical representations bearing directly upon the 
subject. The poet supposes the hero of his Odyssey 
to descend into the invisible regions^ where he re- 
cognises the shades of the mighty dead^ and converses 
famiharly with many of his departed friends on sub- 
jects of mutual interest. Amongst the crowds of 
spirits which pass in review before him, he beholds 
to his great surprise the shade of his mother, who 
still manifests towards him all the tenderness of ma- 
ternal affection. The illustrious of every age crowd 
around him, and are recognised, as they present the 
same peculiarities of moral character which distin- 
guished them on earth. Achilles is characterized 
by his former vehemence of manner, and swells with 
the feeling of parental vanity on listening to the in- 
telligence conveyed to him, concerning the martial 
prowess and reputation of his surviving son; and it 
is a circumstance particularly worthy of notice, that 
he and Patroclus are made to appear in company to- 
gether ; for since these individuals are described 
throughout the Iliad as warm and inseparable friends, 
Homer conveys, in a beautiful manner, the notion 
that death does not sever the bond which binds vir- 
tuous spirits together on earth. It is natural here to 
advert to a similar representation in the speech 
which Cicero puts into the mouth of Cato of Utica, 
and which has frequently been quoted and admired. 
" happy day,'^ (says he) '' when I shall quit this 
impure and corrupt multitude, and join myself to 
that divine company and council of souls who have 



72 FUTURE RECOGNITION 

quitted the earth before me ! There I shall find not 
only those illustrious personages to whom I have 
spoken, but also my Cato, who I can say was one of 
the best men ever born, and whom none ever ex- 
celled in virtue and piety. I have placed his body 
on that funeral pile whereon he ought to have laid 
mine. But his soul has not left me; and, without 
losing sight of me, he has only gone before into a 
country where he saw I would soon rejoin him. 
This my lot I seem to bear courageously; not indeed 
that I bear it with resignation, but I shall comfort 
myself with the persuasion that the interval between 
his departure and mine will not be long.'^ 

The views of Socrates, whose character has se- 
cured him the admiration of posterity, and at 
least an earthly immortality, are entitled to par- 
ticular notice, especially as they represent the 
opinions of Plato, together with a numerous body 
of philosophers belonging to the same celebrated 
school. That which comforted him in the closing 
scenes of life, was the hope of leaving the world to 
mingle in the society of the great and good of every 
age. In his address to his judges, after receiving the 
fatal sentence, he dwells upon the subject in a strain 
of animated expression. '^If,^' said he, ^^ the com- 
mon expression be true, that death conveys us to 
those regions which are inhabited by the spirits of 
departed men, will it not be unspeakably happy to 
escape from the hands of mere nominal judges, to ap- 
pear before those who truly deserve the name; such as 
Minos and Rhadamanthus, and to associate with all 



A COMMON SENTIMENT. 73 

who have maintained the cause of truth and recti- 
tude? Is it possible for you to look upon this as an 
unimportant journey ? Is it nothing to converse with 
Orpheus and Homer, and Hesiod? Believe me, I 
would cheerfully suffer many a death on the condition 
of realizing such a privilege. With what pleasure 
could I leave the world to hold communion with Pa- 
lamedes, Ajax, and others, who, like me, have had an 
unjust sentence pronounced against them ? Then 
would I explore the wisdom of Ulysses and Sisyphus, 
and that illustrious chief who led out the vast forces 
of the Grecian army against the city of Troy. Nor 
should I be condemned to death for indulging, as I 
have done here, in free inquiry.^^ 

With these sentiments of pagan poets and sages, 
on the subject before us, the opinions and feelings of 
the heathen in modern times perfectly harmonize. 
It is well known that there prevails among the tribes 
of modern pagans, how^ever sunk in ignorance, and 
widely separated from one another, a settled convic- 
tion that friendship is perpetuated beyond the grave. 
Many of their customs and rites are the consequences 
and expressions of this fondly cherished hope. What 
but this nerves the Hindoo widow with a firmness 
like that w^hich martyrs have displayed at the stake, 
as she lies down a willing victim on the blazing pyre 
of her lamented husband? She would hasten to the 
society of him she loves, — she would meet him in 
the spacious halls of Brahma to spend happier days 
than were ever realized on earth. And why should 
the savage tribes of India, and the untutored inhabi- 



74 FUTURE RECOGNITION 

tants of other climes, follow the death of a lamented 
chief by the sacrifice of human life? 'Tls because 
they imagine that the victims of their superstition 
will accompany the spirit of their chief into the land 
of the dead, and there minister to his comfort and 
dignity in the character of domestics and obsequious 
attendants. The practice of suicide^ with a view to 
retrieve the loss occasioned by the death of friends? 
was not uncommon among the ancients. Nay, So- 
crates in his discourse on the immortality of the soul, 
argues against the fear of death by referring to it as 
a well known fact. '^ Are there not numbers/' says 
he, " who, upon the death of their lovers, wives, and 
children, have chosen of their own accord to enter 
Hades, induced by the hope of seeing there those 
they loved, and living with them again?'' Homer, 
in his description of the funeral honours done to Pa- 
troclus, represents Achilles as sacrificing no less than 
twelve Trojan captives, and several animals to the 
shade of his lamented friend. 

** Four sprightly coursers, with a deadly groan, 
Pour forth their lives, and on the pyre are thrown. 
Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board, 
Fall two, selected to attend their lord; 
Then last of all, and horrible to tell, 
Sad sacrifice, twelve Trojan captives fell." 

Travellers tell us that the Brazilians also con- 
sole themselves on the death of their friends by 
the hope of being united to them, and, are accus- 
tomed to express, in their lamentations, the confident 
expectation of seeing them in the unknown regions 
beyond the mountains which skirt their horizon, to 



A COMMON SENTIMENT. 75 

renew the accustomed pleasures of the chase, the 
dance, and the song. So also the poor Indian of our 
western wilds stretches forth his hands with joy to- 
wards the world beyond his blue mountains, where 
he anticipates the renewal of his existence in the so- 
ciety of kindred and contemporary chieftains, and 
w^here too, — 

"His faithful dog shall bear him company." 

So when the wretched sons of Ham are torn, by 
monsters in human wshape, from their home and kin- 
dred, and sold to masters in distant lands, what is 
their comfort, while memory, reverting to the scenes 
of youth, brings the tear of sorrow^ down their sable 
cheeks, but the cherished belief that after death will 
be formed anew those social bonds which infernal 
cruelty had dared to sever? This revives their spi- 
rit, and sweetens their bitter cup of life. They hope 
to meet their loved ones again in unmolested realms 
of happiness, where — 

" No fiends torment, nor Christians thirst for gold." 
This, when far from home, is their song of rapture 
—is the theme of their consolation, as they sit by the 
waters of captivity and weep. 

*' 'Tis but to die, and then to weep no more, 
Then will he wake on Congo's distant shore; 
Beneath his plantains' ancient shade renew 
The simple transports that with freedom flew; 
Catch the cool breeze that musky evening blows, 
And quaff the palms' rich nectar as it flows; 
The oral tale of elder times rehearse,] 
And chant the rude traditionary verse, 
With those the loved companions of his youth, 
When life was luxury, and friendship truth." 



76 FUTURE RECOGNITION 

These common notions of life beyond the grave, 
which we find in almost every tribe and quarter of 
the world, we regard as so many imperfect traditions 
from patriarchal times, and as presumptive evidence 
of the matter in question, for the same reason that 
the prevalent belief of the divine existence, and of 
the immortality of the soul, is a valid argument in 
support of these fundamental and sublime truths 
of our holy religion. " A concurrence of sentiment, 
on any subject, must have its origin either in some 
superhuman discovery transmitted to successive ge- 
nerations by written or oral tradition, or it must be 
the result of unaided reason; and then the tenet 
which has acquired such currency must be ranked 
amongst those principles and deductions to which 
the human mind, in the free exercise of its powers, 
is naturally conducted/^ If we adopt the former of 
these suppositions, we concede the point in question, 
and place the hope of renewed and conscious inter- 
course amongst good men after death on an immova- 
ble rock, even the testimony of God himself, who 
will not fail to gratify an expectation built upon his 
own immutable promise. Whether any supernatural 
disclosures relating to this subject were made to the 
faithful of old, it is not our business at present to in- 
quire; but admitting such information to have been 
imparted to the world, we may conclude, that how- 
ever it might have been obscured in the progress of 
time, its accordance with the strongest sympathies 
and desires of the heart, must have secured its trans- 
mission in some form to the latest posterity. 



A COMMON SENTIMENT. 77 

But if we are disposed to believe that this harmony 
of opinion is to be accounted for on the other hypo- 
thesis, the fact still remains strong in favour of the 
doctrine on which it bears. It is the voice of nature 
proclaiming in loud and joyous accents the destiny 
of her virtuous children. It comes before us in this 
case as one of the established conclusions of reason, 
and the obvious presumption of reason is, that the 
conclusion must have some solid foundation. In this 
view, it is at least entitled to respectful considera- 
tion; for no w^ise man will trifle with an opinion 
which has the sanction of all ages as well as all na- 
tions, in which the best feelings of the heart are 
deeply implicated. We conceive, however, that the 
hope in question will bear the test of close examina- 
tion, and will be found to harmonize not more with 
all the tendencies of our nature, than with the con- 
clusions of reason and revelation. 

In concluding this chapter, we use the language of 
a certain writer who thus extends the view already 
presented: "Whoever read or heard of any class or 
denomination of Christians, or any considerable num- 
ber of individuals, who have expressed disbelief or 
any serious doubts on this point? Those persons 
who have done so, have probably been led to it either 
by an affectation of singularity, superior intelligence, 
or pre-eminent spirituality; or a desire to be thought 
superior to vulgar errors and superstitions; or (which 
is the more charitable supposition) by those seeming 
diiSculties," which we trust shall hereafter be satis- 
factorily answered. " But if we would gather the 
S 



78 FUTURE HECOaNlTlON 

general sentiment and expectation^ we must consult 
the writings, or ascertain, in some way, the opinions 
and feelings of all ages of the Christian dispensation; 
we must attend to the expositions, sermons, funeral 
orations, liturgies, hymns, biographies, dying requests^ 
and hopes of the righteous, and the farewells, charges, 
and hopes of survivors, of every age. And here we 
shall find innumerable avowals and intim.ations more 
or less clear, indicating that this natural sentiment 
and hope have been co-extensive with Christianity. 
It does not alter the case in the least, that these sen- 
timents and hopes have given rise to superstitious 
notions and practices. The fact of their having done 
so extensively, not only proves their reality, but de- 
monstrates their power. Whence arise these feel- 
ings and anticipations? They must have some ori- 
gin. They must be referred either to immemorial 
tradition — and that tradition must have originated in 
revelation; or to some deeply implanted instinct, 
sensibility, or principle in the human constitution; 
and if so, as on the former suppositions, they must be 
referred eventually to the wisdom and will of the 
Creator himself. Did this infinitely benevolent 
Being intend to tantalize His creatures by implant- 
ing in their nature " the herald of a lie?'^ This can- 
not be admitted. On any supposition, then, which 
will account for this universally prevalent feeling, its 
natural history afibrds strong evidence of its truth, 
for it originates with God. A universal desire does 
not prove indeed that its object will be attained by all; 
but it does prove that it is in some way or other at- 
tainable?'^ 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 79 



CHAPTER VI. 

ON THE REASONABLENESS OF THE DOCTRINE OF 
FUTURE RECOGNITION, 

"They sin who tell us love can die." — South ey. 

" Friends, even in heaven, one happiness would miss, 
Should they not know each other when in bliss." 

Bishop Ken, 

We have seen that the doctrine of future recog- 
nition and perpetuated friendship, is a prevalent sen- 
timent; peculiar to no age or people. The cause of 
this, in the case of heathens, may be traced, either 
to some immemorial tradition, originating in revela- 
tion, or to the truth that there is not a faculty of the 
soul which man does not shudder at the bare thought 
of losing, or an enjoyment which he does not ar- 
dently wish to carry with him beyond the grave. 
There is not, in fact, an acquisition that ennobles or 
adorns him on which he would not impress the seal 
of eternity. He cannot think, therefore, of those 
near and dear to him, removed by the stroke of 
death, without most earnestly desiring to meet, re- 
cognise, and love them again in a purer and happier 
world. Man, indeed, has no feeling more deeply 



80 REASONABLENESS OP 

seated, or of more difficult eradication than this. In 
the gloomy hours of bereavement, when the heart 
bleeds and aches with the sense of its own desolation, 
he longs to bring the loved ones back to his fond 
embrace, to enjoy again the endearments of wonted 
fellowship. And ^tis only as time wears on, and 
the cares of life begin to press, and hope after hope 
expires, that he becomes gradually insensible or re- 
conciled to his loss. Perhaps, he may begin to think 
of the time when he himself shall follow them, and 
thus find comfort in the thought that he shall soon 
embrace his dear kindred in a peaceful world, "where 
the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary be 
at rest.^^ 

In the mind of the enlightened Christian, there 
can be no doubt that good men will meet hereafter ^ 
and form a perfect and eternal society. We read 
of the redeemed coming from all parts of the earth, 
and sitting down in the kingdom of heaven with 
Jlbraham, Isaac and Jacob, Will they, however, 
know or recognise their companions in glory? " In 
this blessed society of angels and saints,^' including, 
of course, our brethren, friends, and acquaintance 
from all parts of the world, shall w^e recognise those 
whom we knew and loved on earth? and if so, '^will 
those feelings of aSeclion which linked us together 
here, be renewed and perpetuated in heaven? These 
are questions which every Christian is disposed to 
ask; they are of universal interest, and not without 
some practical utility.^^ 

We have all lived to see many of our dearest 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 81 

friends and acquaintances removed to the world of 
spirits; and oft as busy memory retraces the scenes 
of by-gone years, and calls up the well remembered 
forms— "the voice, the hand, the smile,^' of the loved 
and lost — -^^ not lost but gone before,*' it is natural 
for us to inquire whether we shall ever meet to know 
each other again; and whether those attachments 
w^hich we now cherish will remain after death. 

^'Did we aim at logical accuracy, we should consi- 
der separately these several propositions: first, whe- 
ther the souls of the righteous, in their disembodied 
state, and immediately after death, will know each 
other; or, secondly, whether this recognition, if it 
occur at all, takes place only after the reunion of 
soul and body at the resurrection day ; — and, thirdly, 
w^hether, if such knowledge exist, the attachments, 
which bind us here, will be continued hereafter. 
These subjects are, strictly speaking, entirely sepa- 
rate and distinct, inasmuch as there may be know- 
ledge without affection; and if it were admitted that 
saints in light know each other, and all love each 
other, yet it does not necessarily follow that the pe- 
culiar ties which bind us here, \\\\\ be perpetuated 
hereafter. In like manner, if it be proved that 
friends will recognise each other in their glorified 
bodieSj it does not follow, as a consequence, that 
pure disembodied spirits will possess such recogni- 
tion. To be strictly accurate, therefore, each of these 
separate propositions ought to be distinctly proved. 
It would, however, be foreign to our present purpose, 
and would be neither interesting nor instructive, to 



82 REASONABLENESS OP 

enter into all the niceties of the argument. We are 
aware that objections may be urged against the spi- 
rits of the righteous knowing each other, which 
\vould not apply to such recognition in their glori- 
fied bodies. But without attempting to answer such 
cavils, we can only say, in the words of the Rev. 
John Newton, " How wonderful will the moment 
after death be! how we shall see without eyes, hear 
w^ithout ears, and praise without tongue, we cannot 
at present conceive. We now use the word intui- 
tion — then we shall know the meaning of it. But 
we are assured that they who love and trust the Sa- 
viour shall see him as he is, and be like him and 
with him.^' We shall, therefore, consider the whole 
subject as one and indivisible; and attempt to show^ 
that departed spirits, "whether in the body, or out 
of the body,'' will know each other, and that the 
pure and holy affections of love and friendship, which 
subsist now, will subsist for ever." 

The subject, viewed in this light, perfectly accords 
with enlightened reason. In this world, there are 
certain characteristic differences as to mind and per- 
son distinguishing every human being. Why not 
also in the world to come? Nay, we have reason 
to believe that the Almighty will perpetuate the pe- 
culiarities of men hereafter for the sam.e reasons that 
he established them here. They will there, as here, 
furnish at once the means of recognition and the 
basis of perpetuated friendship; and give interest to 
the heavenly society. The changes, through which 
the redeemed pass, after death, how great soever, 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 83 

will not affect the principles of their personal iden- 
tity. We know, judging from the resurrection body 
of our Saviour, that our glorified bodies will be as 
truly organized frames as before, possessing improved 
appetites and senses. Iren3eus maintained this: and 
Bishop Horsley favours it, by supposing that the 
body of Christ, in which he rose from the tomb, 
was the spiritual body in which he ascended to 
heaven. Nay, the popular notion, whatever that 
may be w^orth, has always been, that men retain 
something of their original form and likeness, after 
death; and this pervades, as we have seen, all those 
representations of the heathen poets, which relate to 
the manes of the dead, and to the shades or umbrae 
which were conceived to linger around their sepul- 
chres, as if unwilling to abandon their mortal re- 
mains. The classic reader will remember that Virgil, 
even goes so far as to present the ghost of Deiphobus 
before us, bearing the very wounds which his mur- 
derers had inflicted on him.* The soul also will be 
the same intelligent substance, bearing all its peculi- 
arities and characteristics. Nay, there is, perhaps, no 
truth w^hich admits of a more rigid demonstration, 
than that the consciousness of man, or which amounts 
to the same thing, the memory of his present exist- 
ence and actions, will extend into, and be perpetuated 
in another world. Ixi the language of Dr. Wiser, 
"the course of man is a whole, of which his walk 
on earth is but a part.'^ Revelation assures us there 

^ Vide .-Eneid, lib. VL 



84 REASONABLENESS OF 

is a close and indissoluble connexion between the 
life that now is, and that which is to come. This 
relation is of a moral nature, and extends to every 
human being. It recognises man as a moral agent, 
— as in a condition, which, in the strictest sense, is 
probationary — and appeals to the strongest elements 
of his nature, by holding out to him the certainty of 
a future retribution, which will be conducted on the 
rule of perfect rectitude. The economy, indeed, un- 
der which we are placed, proceeds not on the ground 
of rigid and abstract justice. It compassionates our 
case as sinners, and, on the footing of a most sublime 
and extraordinary expedient, by which mercy can be 
exercised towards us, without endangering the inte- 
rests of virtue, it freely offers us pardon, and provides 
for our perfect recovery to the divine image. But, 
though thus mercifully adapted to our helplessness, 
its lenient character does not interfere with our re- 
sponsibility; it still regards us as in a state of trial, 
and assures us that we ^<^ m.ust all appear before the 
judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive 
the things done in his body, according to that he 
hath done, wdiether it be good or bad.'^ 

From this, the inference is inevitable that what- 
ever clianges or losses the soul may experience after 
death, it will not part with the remembrance of those 
actions for which it is responsible to God, and which 
are to decide the awards of the great day. In the 
opinion of Locke, it is consciousness alone that con- 
stitutes personal identity in the forensic sense. In 
the absence of this, man is not the same being, and 



rUTURE RECOGNITION. 85 

cannot be a fit subject of the sanctions of moral law. 
" All the ends of justice require that those parts of 
his conduct, which are rewarded or punished^ should 
be brought home to his conscience, and that he should, 
therefore, have a distinct recollection of his actions, 
and of ,the responsibility connected with them.^' 
Nay, without the continuation of memory, an equi- 
table recompense, in the world to come, is utterly 
out of the question. If we have no remembrance of 
the events connected with our earthly being — if the 
actions we have here performed — the scenes through 
which we have passed — and the persons associated 
with us, should be for ever buried in oblivion, — if, in 
a word, there should be no such thing as the retro- 
spection of our antecedent existence, it is certain that 
such a state of things would amount, virtually, to an 
annihilation of our individuality, and would, of ne- 
cessity, frustrate the purposes of penal justice, and 
also of redeeming love. Nor have we any ground 
for believing that the consciousness of our individu- 
ality will be limited to the day of judgment. What- 
ever reasons may be advanced to establish the neces- 
sity of such remembrance on the solemn occasion of 
the final audit, appear to require its extension to 
every subsequent period of our being, and render it 
in the highest degree improbable that it should be 
obliterated by a miraculous interposition on the part 
of the Deity. The ends of justice require that the 
impenitent should bring to remembrance the sins for 
which they will sujSer the wrath of God. 

The relation, therefore, of the present to the future 



86 REASONABLENESS OF 

not only proves that the consciousness of our identity 
will, in all probability, be extended into the world to 
come, but affords a strong presumption that its energy 
will be so increased, that it may be able to respond 
to the decisions of the last day, and thus answer, in 
the fullest sense, one of the ends of its continued 
existence. This opinion is strengthened by the con- 
sideration of the intellectual and moral superiority to 
which we shall attain in the future state. We read 
that we shall be "made perfect,'^ and this perfection 
must relate as well to the intellectual as to the moral 
nature. Our faculties shall all be strengthened and 
vastly improved, and among the rest memory of 
course. Being an important element of the mental 
constitution, it will share in the general perfection 
which awaiteth the righteous; and this fact, taken in 
connexion with the social character of the redeemed, 
renders a retrospective knowledge of each other ab- 
solutely certain. 

The following observations, by the Author of 
"Natural History of Enthusiasm,'^ are at once perti- 
nent to the subject, and confirmatory of the preceding 
remarks. 

"A certain degree of illusion attaches to what- 
ever is future and untried; and this false colour, 
spread over our prospects, at one time exaggerates 
our hopes, and at another, by reaction, damps them. 
If a future change in our condition be of a very ex- 
tensive and important kind, we are very apt to sup- 
pose that, even if our consciousness of identity be not 
impaired by the event, our ordinary modes of feel- 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 87 

ing, and our characteristic sentiments and tastes, 
will none of them remain the same. From pre- 
viously entertaining these delusive expectations, it 
happens, when we come actually to pass through 
some such important revolution of personal condi- 
tion, that our first emotions are not so much those of 
surprise at the greatness of the change, as of disap- 
pointment at the small extent to which it has affect- 
ed our usual sensations, and at finding how little 
customary personal consciousness has been disturbed. 
We feel ourselves possessed of the same familiar self 
— of the same peculiarities of taste, and that the very 
same moral and mental habits have passed on with 
us, through the hour of transition, from one condi- 
tion of life to another; nor can we say that this tran- 
sition, in itself, has made us more wise or virtuous, 
or that it has enhanced, by so much as a particle, our 
personal merits ; although it may have enlarged our 
range of action, and perhaps have added to our 
means of enjoyment. 

"Now we may reasonably imagine that it will be 
precisely thus in the moment of our passage from 
the present, to another mode of existence. The se- 
veral powers of life shall have become more intense 
in their activity, our consciousness of being will have 
been expanded; the faculties will no longer labour 
and faint at their tasks, or relapse exhausted : life 
will burn clear and steady, and will need no reple- 
nishing; but yet the inner man — the individual — the 
moral personality, will be untouched: — the remem- 
brance of yesterday and its little history, will be dis- 



88 REASONABLENESS OF 

tinct and familiar; and we shall come to an instanta- 
neous conviction of the momentous practical truth; 
that the physical and the moral nature are so tho- 
roughly independent one of the other, as that the 
greatest imaginable revolution passing upon the for- 
mer, shall leave the latter simply what it was. 

'' At the moment of recognising our personal con- 
sciousness, after passing through the future physical 
transformation, what we must fix upon will unques- 
tionably be our habitual emotions, tastes, and moral 
dispositions ; for it is these that constitute the very 
core of our being, and it is these that must stand out, 
with so much the more characteristic distinctness, 
when whatever was accidental and adjunctive has 
fallen off from us. All merely animal sensations will 
have been superseded ; all mechanical and technical 
habits will have lost their means and occasions ; the 
intellectual furniture will, for the most part, or per- 
haps entirely, have given place to knowledge of a more 
direct and substantial kind ; but the sentiments we 
have cherished, and the affections that have settled 
down upon the mind, and which constitute its cha- 
racter — these, now, with a bold and prominent supre- 
macy, will make up the continuity of our conscious- 
ness, and compel us to confess ourselves the same. 
Much indeed that belonged to our first stage of exist- 
ence, will, in the retrospect, appear shadowy and un- 
important; but not so any of those events or courses 
of conduct that shall be found to have created or con- 
trolled our mortal being,'^ 

Before we proceed farther, it may be proper to 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 89 

state more particularly what we mean by future re- 
cognition. This is rendered expedient by the vague 
notions generally entertained concerning it. 

There are two kinds of recognition : w^e may, by 
comparing ideas and recollections, or by some simi- 
lar and gradual process, come to the conclusion that 
certain persons are the same that we once knew on 
earth; and thus we may be said to recognise them. 
" That we shall, in this sense, recognise as old ac- 
quaintance, many whom we now know, scarcely ad- 
mits a doubt.^' How can it be otherwise? To fail 
of this, we must forget every thing most interesting 
and memorable; all dates, places, names, — every 
thing, in fact, which now interests us, even to our 
own personal identity. But this is no less at vari- 
ance with all our notions on the subject, than with 
the fundamental laws of the human mind. 

" The other, and highest kind of recognition, is 
such as we are now capable of when we meet an old 
acquaintance or friend, and know him by sight — '^ 
recognise him at once by his person or general cha- 
racter. The question then is simply this : When 
we meet our friends in heaven, shall we know them 
as we now know an acquaintance whom we may 
chance to meet in a strange city or country? This 
is the idea generally entertained, and it is against 
this that the common objections are conceived to lie. 

Whether recognition vvill occur at first sight or 
not, one thing is certain, at least perfectly rational, 
and in accordance with the Divine purpose and ar- 
rangement, namely, — that we shall recognise each 
9 



90 REASONABLENESS OF 

other in some manner, if not instantly, and by intui- 
tion. 

In addition to the preceding remarks, the follow- 
ing, we think, is entitled to some weight. The Cre- 
ator constituted man for society. The Divine testi- 
mony is, "It is not good that man should be alone.'' 
This had reference to the innocent or Paradisiacal 
estate; and teaches, by implication, that we were de- 
signed for society not only so far as this wicked 
world is concerned, but also with reference to a holy 
and happy state. Nay, a desire for the pleasure of 
society is so much an element of our nature, depraved 
as it is, — a passion not altered by religion, nor, so far 
as we can judge, destroyed by death, — that we often 
prefer to struggle with care and poverty in the land 
of our nativity, in the midst of our kindred and early 
associations, than migrate to some distant soil, where 
perhaps those evils might be avoided, and honour, 
ease, and affluence secured and enjoyed. Being thus 
formed for society by our Creator, may we not pre- 
sume that we shall carry this adaptation about 
with us through every mode of existence? A prin- 
ciple so characteristic of human nature, so conducive 
to happiness — reason instructs us to conclude, will 
be perpetuated in the "life to come,'' with increased 
satisfactions. Besides, it must be obvious to an ordi- 
nary observer that the desire for social communion 
ceases not with our instinctive wants, upon which it 
is supposed to be based, but rather strengthens by 
continuance, causing us, as we advance in life, to 
cling closer and closer to the objects of our early af- 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 91 

fection. When the child's wants of a parent's fos- 
tering hand no longer exist, yet filial and parental af- 
fection still continues, time not extinguishing, but 
rather increasing it. Husband and wife, even after 
instinctive passion has subsided, feel an affection 
more permanent, still binding their hearts with mu- 
tual fondness to each other. And what shall we say 
o{ friendship^ an affection, when pure, not founded 
on any sensual instinct ? How does the mutual 
attachment of congenial minds increase by time, 
each feeling itself only half of the other, and only 
when together, perfectly and completely one? 
Shall we suppose these near and dear connexions 
scarcely formed ere they are dissolved by death, 
never again to be united ? If there be a world to 
come, where " the just made perfect" shall again exist; 
why shall they not in that world meet and mutual- 
ly recognise each other, the objects of their former 
affections? Will not he who ^'^ loved Lazarus,'' and 
who said, ^^ our yr?*e^zfi? Lazarus sleepeth," be recog- 
nised by Lazarus in the better world; and if he re- 
cognise his Saviour, why not also his sisters, Martha 
and Mary? And will not ''the disciple whom Je- 
sus lovedj^ that bosom friend, recognise his Lord 
and Master? and if so, why not all those who sat at 
meat with him, when he affectionately reclined on 
his Redeemer? Our capacity of knowledge shall 
be greatly enlarged and gloriously improved, 
" Here we see through a glass darkly ; but there we 
shall see face to face: here we know in part; there 
we shall know even as also we are known." When, 



92 REASONABLENESS OF 

therefore, the souls of good men hereafter meet, they 
shall be possessed of all their former knowledge, and 
likewise have much added to it; and therefore, it 
is a reasonable, if not a necessary conclusion, that 
they shall recognise each other. Nay, if we look 
beyond the morning of the resurrection, is it reason- 
able to suppose, that when the saints are "made per- 
fect,'^ and the body is delivered from all impurity and 
imperfection — when all its powers are strengthened 
and enlarged, as w^ell as those of the soul, the visual 
organs shall be so defective as not to recognise, 
among the multitude of the redeemed, those whose 
persons were once familiar, and of whom a perfect 
memory wdll retain many interesting and delightful 
reminiscences? 

We admit, indeed, that the resurrection body wuU 
be vastly different from the body sown in weakness 
and dishonour, but its identity will remain. Though 
it far exceed the most perfect model of beauty and 
gracefulness, upon which the eye of man has ever 
gazed, yet there will still remain some lineaments 
which shall recall to our memory dear friends and 
kindred, and, as the disciples recognised the Redeem- 
er, after he had risen the first fruits of them that 
slept, that is, a specimen of the general resurrection, 
so shall we also recognise each other after our resur- 
rection. It is not, therefore, to be doubted that we 
shall hereafter remember and recognise our friends 
and kindred. But here the question arises, if we 
remember and recognise them, wuU not our remem- 
brance be attended with the revival of special re- 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 93 

gardfor one above another^ and have a tendency 
to draw us to one another as far as it will be proper 
or consistent with heavenly felicity ? We are aware 
that it may be objected, that our present attachments 
to friends and relations are derived from instincts 
planted in us to carry forward the purposes of the 
present state, which must cease hereafter. This, in 
some degree, is true. Every instinctive determina- 
tion, which respects only the exigencies of the pre- 
sent life, will cease with it. We read that in hea- 
ven the saints are like the angels of God. They 
will therefore regard each other with a somewhat 
different affection from that which they here enter- 
tain. All that belongs to the animal and earthly 
shall be either abolished or greatly m.odified; and as 
knowledge shall be clear and certain, love shall be 
pure and heavenly. The Sadducees, who say there 
is no resurrection, came to Christ to entangle him 
with this difficult question: — " Master, Moses said, 
If a man die, having no children, his brother shall 
marry his wife, and raise seed unto his brother. 
Now, there were with us seven brethren ; the first, 
when he had married a wife, deceased ; and having 
no issue, left his wife unto his brethren ; likewise 
the second also, and the third, unto the seventh; and, 
last of all, the woman died also ; therefore in the re- 
surrection, whose wife shall she be of the seven? for 
they all had her." To this our Saviour does not re- 
ply that the woman shall belong to none of those 
husbands on the ground that none shall recognise 
her; but, — ^^Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, 

9* 



94 REASONABLENESS OF 

nor the power of God; for in the resurrection they 
neither marry, nor are given in marriage ; but are as 
the angels of God in heaven." From this, we may 
conclude that our friends and kindred, though recog- 
nised, shall not be ours, as here, in an exclusive 
sense; and also, that sensual pleasures shall not at- 
tach to our perfect and renovated nature. As there 
shall be no more death, neither will marriage, insti- 
tuted to supply the waste of mortality, be any longer 
necessary, and of course have no place. But to infer 
from the passage, as some have done, that all know- 
ledge of each other is to be excluded, is neither a just 
nor necessary conclusion ; or that we shall be utterly 
indifferent to those whom we now regard as friends 
and relatives.* The nature of things renders it 
scarcely conceivable that the recollection of parents, 
for example, who w^atched over our tender years, and 
trained us up for happiness, should not, in every fu- 
ture period of our existence, endear their memory to 
us, and give us a particular preference of them, and 
inclination to seek and enjoy their society. Besides, 
we sometimes carry our notions too far of the dif- 

* ''It is supposed," says the author of "Scriptural Revelations con- 
cerning a future State," " that particular friendship will be swallowed up 
in universal charity ; and that any partial regard towards one good man 
more than another is too narrow a feeling, and unworthy of a saint 
made perfect. Do we then find any approach towards this supposed 
perfection in the best of men on earth] Far from it. Why then 
should it be otherwise hereafter'? Can we ever be too highly exalted 
to be capable of friendship 1 I am convinced, on the contrary, that the 
extension and perfection of friendship will constitute great part of the fu- 
ture happiness of the blessed." 



FUTURE RECOGNITION. 95 

ference between what we now are, and what we shall 
be hereafter. It would be absurd to suppose, that in 
the world to come we shall be bereft of all our de- 
sires and propensities. Benevolence, curiosity, self- 
love, the desire of honour, and indeed, most of our 
noble and generous affections, will not decrease, but 
rather grow as the perfection of our intellectual na- 
ture grows ; and even our present social instincts may- 
leave effects on our tempers which may produce an 
everlasting union of souls, and lay the foundation of 
sentiments and desires which shall never be lost. 

These remarks, while they fall short of demon- 
strating the question under consideration, show, at 
least, the reasonableness of the doctrine in question. 

Nay, as the desire to be united hereafter to the 
objects of our love, is common to all, and springs 
from an indestructible affection of our nature, and as 
there cannot be any necessary affection which Pro- 
vidence does not mean to gratify, therefore the doc- 
trine under consideration would seem necessarily to 
follow. Or, to put the idea in another form, it is con- 
ceded that the friendships of this life ought to have 
all the good effects of which, according to their na- 
ture, they are capable : but there are some such ef- 
fects which cannot be realized without future re- 
union, therefore, future re-union necessarily follows. 



96 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 



CHAPTER VIL 

FUTURE RECOaNITlON OF FRIENDS TAUGHT IN THE 
SACRED SCRIPTURES.: 

If death my friend and me divide, 
Thou dost not, Lord, my sorrows chide, 

Nor frown my tears to see; 
Restrained from passionate excess, 
Thou bidst me mourn in calm distress, 

For them that rest in thee. 

I feel a strong, immortal hope. 
Which bears my mournful spirit up, 

Beneath its mountain load ; 
Redeemed from death, and grief, and pain, 
I soon shall find my friend again, 

Within the arms of God. 

C. W~ESLEY. 

We will now consider, how the conclusions to 
which the preceding general reasoning conducted us 
- — harmonize with those passages of holy writ which 
bear directly on the subject before us. It would 
seem from the passage in 2 Sam. xii. 22, 23, that the 
doctrine of future recognition was not unknown 
under the Mosaic dispensation. David says, in re- 
ference to his child, "While the child was yet alive, 
I fasted and wept: for 1 said, who can tell -whether 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 97 

God will be gracious to me, that the child may live? 
But now he is dead, wherefore should 1 fast? can I 
bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall 
not return to me." "The child of David, by Bath- 
sheba, was doomed to die as a mark of the Divine dis- 
pleasure." When it was smitten with sickness, the 
father betrayed the deepest solicitude on the occa- 
sion, and devoted himself to humiliation, fasting, and 
prayer, hoping that the sentence of death would 
prove conditional, and that penitential intercession 
might be the means of warding off the threatened 
calamity. *^ But offended justice carried its purpose 
into effect; and immediately afterwards David reco- 
vered his wonted composure of mind, and manifested 
such a degree of fortitude, as excited surprise, and 
called forth the inquiries of his domestics." Whence 
his consolation? Certainly not from the bare recol- 
lection that he also should die. The child, on that 
account, would not be the less lost to him. David's 
reply to his servants, " Wherefore should I fast, &c.," 
is capable of two interpretations:* first, it may sig- 

* Dr. A. Clarke says, " It is not clear whether David by this expressed 
his faith in the immortality of the soul : going to him may only mean, 
I also shall die, and be gathered to my fathers, as he is. But whether 
David expressed this or not, we know that the thing is true; and it is 
one of the most solid grounds of consolation to surviving friends that they 
shall by and by be joined to them in a state of conscious existence. 
This doctrine has a very powerful tendency to alleviate the miseries of 
human life, and reconcile us to the death of most beloved friends. And 
were we to admit the contrary, grief, in many cases, would wear out its 
subject before it wore out itself. Even the heathen derived consolation 
from the reflection that they should meet their friends in a state of con- 
scious existence." 



98 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

nify, " My son is gone to mingle with the dust, which 
must soon be my fate also;'^ or secondly, " My son 
is gone to another world; and there I shall meet 
him.'' According to the first, the reflection of Da- 
vid is the language of despair; according to the lat- 
ter, of consolation* Which interpretation does the 
context require? After he announced his conviction 
that though his son should not return to him, he 
should go to his son, he arose from the earth, washed 
and anointed himself, changed his apparel, and came 
into the house of the Lord, and worshipped: then he 
went to his own house, and comforted his afflicted 
family. If we understand him to mean nothing 
more than that his body should soon mingle in the 
earth with that of his child, we suppose him to assign 
no adequate reason for the change that took place in 
the state of his mind. " The very sudden change, 
therefore, which appeared in his spirits, as well as 
the minuteness with which all the circumstances of 
the case are recorded, furnishes a strong presumption, 
that this was one of those occasions on which the 
Psalmist spoke as he was moved by the Holy Ghost, 
with a view to his own comfort, and to that of all 
believers, in every future age.'' The implication of 
the passage we regard, therefore, as consolatory. 
Nay, it implies that the royal mourner would meet 
and recognise his child in a better world: on this 
supposition alone is the conduct of the father intelli- 
gible, the ground of his comfort clear, and the expres- 
sion of it natural, and appropriate.^ 

* The question, What may be the final destiny of infants and children, 
is one about which every parent must feel anxious. In the passage upon 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 99 

In Isaiah, xiv. 9, 10, we read that '' Hell^^ or 
sheol "from beneath is moved for thee/^ (Nebu- 
chadnezzar) " to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth 
up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the 
earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the 
kings of the nations. All they shall speak, and say 
unto thee. Art thou also become weak as we? Art 
thou become like unto us?^^ 

In this remarkable passage, we have a description 

which we have been commenting, the salvation of all who die in infancy 
and early childhood, is placed beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, 
especially when contemplated in connexion with the future discoveries of 
the Gospel. — Christ saith, " Of such is the kingdom of God." By which 
he seems to have the salvation of all who die in infancy in his view. 
" His reasoning is not, ' of persons resembling such in temper and dispo- 
sition is the kingdom made up/ for this would not warrant the conclusion 
drawn, namely, that children ought not to be hindered from being brought 
to Him, in order to be blessed, for on the same principle he might have 
said, * Suffer doves and lambs to be brought unto me to be blessed, for of 
persons resembling such is the kingdom of God made up.' Now, this 
would prove too much: consequently it proves nothing. His words, 
then, must respect children Uterally; and his blessing such ensures their 
salvation. It is to no purpose to deny this conclusion by saying, that 
though our Lord wept over Jerusalem, yet, Jerusalem fell, for there is a 
wide and an essential difference between a lamentation over the obsti- 
nacy of active rebels, and a benediction poured upon infants, between a 
warning of impending danger, and an assurance, that ' of such is the 
kingdom of heaven.' Nor can the words be construed to respect only 
the particular children then brought to Him, or any particular class of 
children exclusively; for the expression, ^ of such,' is comprehensive of 
all who never get beyond the condition of infancy." 

" They die to sin, they die to cares, 

But for a moment feel the rod*, 
O mourner, such the Lord declares. 

Such are the children of our God." 



100 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

^' which ill accords with the idea of a sepulchre, or 
even an)^ royal mausoleum; but which is perfectly 
applicable to the region of separate spirits?^ Even, 
however, admitting, what is by no means evident, 
namelj'', that the prophet is to be understood merely 
as expressing himself in the bold language of poetry, 
still it is reasonable to suppose that his representation 
imbodies the popular notions of the Jews in his own 
times. For "as Homer, in his Odyssey, sends the 
souls of the slaughtered wooers to HadeSj where 
they meet with the manes of Achilles, Agamemnon, 
and other heroes; so,'' remarks Dr. Magee, "the 
Hebrew poet, in this passage of inimitable grandeur, 
describes the king of Babylon, (Nebuchadnezzar,) 
when slain and brought to the grave, as entering 
sheol^ and there meeting the Rephaim or manes of 
the dead, who had descended thither before him, and 
who recognising him, are poetically represented as 
rising from their seats at his approach. And as, on 
the one hand, the passage in the Grecian bard has 
been held without any question, to be demonstrative 
of the existence of a popular belief amongst the 
Greeks, that there was a place called Hades, which 
was the receptacle for departed spirits; so this poetic 
image of Isaiah, must be allowed, upon the other, to 
indicate in like manner, among the Jews, the exis- 
tence of a popular belief that there was a region for 
departed souls, called sheol, in which the Rephaim, 
or manes took up their abode/'* 

* Vide Bishop Lowth on the passage. And also vide Ezekiel chap, 
xxxii. 



A SCRIPTtJRAL DOCTRINE. 101 

The parable* of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 
xvi. 22 — 25,) proves that disembodied spirits in the 
intermediate state shall rem.ember and recognise each 
other. We are aware that in explaining parables, 
we are not warranted in running the parallel too mi- 
nutely between the literal and figurative senses ; for 
it is necessary that many circumstances be introduced 
merely with a view to fill up the outline, and give 
consistency and interest to the story. But the basis 
of a scripture parable never involves any thing con- 
trary to truth; otherwise it would be calculated to 
mislead us. Now, the basis on which the parable of 
the rich man is constructed, is, that he carries with 
him into the other world his earthly consciousness 
and remembrance, and has power to recognise an in- 
dividual whom he knew on the earth. He sees La- 
zarus afar off — he possesses a clear perception of all 
the circumstances of his father^s house — and mourns 
when he thinks of his five brethren. He addresses 
Abraham as his ancestor, "Father Abraham,^^ &c. 
Now, mark the ground upon which Abraham based 
his reply, "Son, rememher^'^ &c. He appeals to 
the remembrance of the unhappy man. This is 
the very point in question, the ability hereafter to 
remember the occurrences and associations of earth, 

^ There can be little doubt that this is a parable, and not a real his- 
tory, from the fact that it is found word for word, or at least in all its 
essential features, in the Gemara Babylonicum, 

Some of the fathers, among the rest Tertullian, thought from the cer- 
tainty with which future recognition is set forth here, that the soul is 
corporeal, and after death maintains the shape of the body. This was 
also the opinion of Irenseus. 
10 



102 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

and recognise those with whom we had formed inti- 
macies during our probation. 

In St. Matthew we read, ^' And I say unto you, 
that many shall come from the east and west, and 
shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, 
in the kingdom of heaven.'' (chap. viii. 11.) Future 
happiness is here represented under the emblem of 
a festive scene. 

Now, is it compatible with the lowest degree of 
probability to suppose that when Abraham, and 
Isaac, and Jacob are sitting together in the kingdom 
of heaven, Abraham shall have no recollection of his 
beloved Son Isaac, through whom all the nations of 
the earth were to be blessed? shall these three venera- 
ble patriarchs be to each other as three utter stran- 
gers brought together from different and remote 
countries ? Why did our Lord speak of this asso- 
ciation if it means nothing? Why is this joinings 
this sitting down together ^ at the same table, in the 
kingdom of heaven, so prominently held forth in re- 
ference to the admission of individuals from the 
east and west, unless the character and actions of these 
patriarchs are to be subjects of universal knowledge, 
and because the intercourse throughout eternity with 
these illustrious saints will be rendered in the high- 
est degree useful and delightful? Multitudes of 
strangers are to come from the four quarters of the 
earth, and sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and 
Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. And St. Luke 
says, that we shall see Jibraham^ and Isaac^ and Ja- 
cohy and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 103 

Luke xiii. 28. Here special honour and felicity- 
are promised to those ancient worthies ; and how can 
they be realized consistently, and not imply our 
knowledge of them? "If we are bound to receive 
that as the true meaning of any passage which is the 
most simple and agreeable to common apprehension, 
can we justly suppose any thing short of this know- 
ledge to be intended in the language of our Lord ? 
For in what other sense is it at all likely to be 
understood, by any persons whose judgments are gui- 
ded by the plain and unbiassed dictates of reason ? 
Wherefore, indeed, should specific mention be made 
at all of the three illustrious patriarchs, but to inti- 
mate that they would be known to the numerous 
strangers to be associated with them, from the most 
distant parts of the earth ? And do we not overlook 
the characteristic circumstance of their fellowship, 
and render the very point of allusion irrelevant, by 
so interpreting the passage as to conclude that the 
latter will have no personal acquaintance with the 
former, and possess no means of identifying them 
amongst the inhabitants of heaven? 

^^Let us consider what, in effect, the representation 
of our Saviour would amount to, if we understand it 
in any other sense than that which concedes the point 
to be established. ^The faith and humility,^ we 
must suppose him to say, ' which ye witness in this 
centurion, (vide Matt. viii. 8,) are but the pledge 
and first fruits of the triumph of my grace over the 
Gentile nations. Many of the heathen, in the re- 
motest parts of the earth, shall be the willing subjects 



104 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

of my kingdom; and the lime shall arive when they 
shall come from the east and from the west, from the 
north and from the south, and enjoy the high felici- 
ty of holding intercourse with your most renowned 
ancestors. They shall sit down at the heavenly ban- 
quet; among the rest, with Abraham, the father of 
the faithful, with Isaac, the child of promise, and 
with Jacob, whose holy and persevering ardour in 
prayer was such as to obtain for him the name of Is- 
rael. But do not, at the same time, suppose that 
they will be able to distinguish these individuals, or 
any others, in the mansions of bliss. Although they 
shall, indeed, be guests in common with them at the 
table of my Father, they will not be conscious of be- 
ing in the society of those who were distinguished 
patriarchs on earth, nor shall they ever know them 
as such, though they shall dwell and converse with 
them for ever in the kingdom of heaven. 

"Such is the import of the language we must as- 
cribe to the Saviour, on the supposition that he did 
not intend us to believe that the three patriarchs re- 
ferred to will be known to the gentile converts, who 
are to participate with them in the happiness of the 
life to come. But if they will not be unknown to 
strangers^ belonging to different parts and ages of 
the world from those in which it was their lot to 
live, much more may we conclude that they will be 
known to each other, and be joyfully recognised by 
those of their contemporaries who were united in 
holy fellowship with them in the days of their earthly 
pilgrimage.'^ 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 105 

The passage in question, therefore, extends its 
evidence beyond the point in support of which it 
was adduced. For, not only does it encourage us to 
believe that recognition, in the strict sense of the 
word, will take place amongst the just ; but when 
viewed in connexion with the parable of Dives and 
Lazarus, and the scene on the mount of Transfigura- 
ation, we had reason to conclude, that the most 
distinguished and holy men, belonging to distant 
ages and countries, men who never had the oppor- 
tunity of beholding each other "in the flesh,'^ will 
become known to one another, and to the rest of the 
heavenly inhabitants ; and that their fellowship, en- 
livened by mutual recollections, will constitute one 
of the chief elements of future happiness. 

Our argument is strengthened and confirmed by 
the text in Matt. xix. 28. "And Jesus said unto 
them. Verily I say unto you, that ye which have fol- 
lowed me in the regeneration, when the Son of man 
shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit 
upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Is- 
rael.'^^ 

* " Ye which have followed me, in the regeneration/' &c. 

Dr. A. Clarke says, the above punctuation is that which is followed 
by the most eminent critics: the " regeneration " is thus referred to the 
time when Jesus shall sit on the throne of his glory, and not to the time 
of following him, which is utterly improper. We understand the term, 
then, as referring to the time when the new heavens and the new 
earth shall be created, and the soul and body united. The Pytha- 
goreans used the word, when, according to their doctiine of metempsy- 
chosis, the soul entered into a new body, and got into a new state of be- 
ing. Clement, in his epistle to the Corinthians, calls the restoration of 
the world, after the deluge, by the same name. 

10* 



106 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

^^It is evident/^ as Dr. Doddridge observes in his 
commentary, " that our Lord refers, in these words, 
to the time of final retribution^ which he elsewhere 
mentions as that in which he should ' sit upon the 
throne of his glory/ '^ The expression " in the rege- 
neration,'^ refers, according to the opinion of others, 
to the new state of things introduced on the promul- 
gation of the gospel, or to the change effected by the 
regenerating power of the Holy Spirit. ^'But,'' in 
the language of Bishop Bloomfield, "it is more agree- 
able to the context to understand it of the resurrec- 
tion to judgment, and the new state of things conse- 
quent upon it/' Thus understood, the passage contains 
a promise by which the twelve apostles were assured, 
" that notwithstanding their humiliation and suflfer- 
ings in the service of God, they would be peculiarly 
distinguished and honoured on the great day of ac- 
counts.'^ Nothing short of this can be intended by 
the declaration that they should "sit upon twelve 
thrones:''^ and if such marks of distinction are con- 
ferred upon them, it is most reasonable to suppose 
that they will recognise each other, and become 
known as the apostles of Jesus Christ. This conclu- 
sion is strengthened, and the general principle in- 
volved in it more fully established, by adverting to 

* " Judging the twelve tribes." Kypke has shown that this is to be 
understood in the sense of governing^ presiding ^ holding X\\e first, and 
most distinguished place. Thus, Gen. xlix. 16, " Dan shall judge his 
people," that is, shall preside in, or rule over them; shall occupy a chief 
place among the tribes. " The sense therefore of our Lord's words, ap- 
pears to be, that these disciples should have those distinguished seats 
in glory which seem to belong peculiarly to the first confessors and mar- 
tyrs." Vide 1 Thess. iv. 14, 16, and Rev. xx. 4 — 6. 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 107 

what is further said respecting them. They are to 
become assessors in the judicial proceedings of the 
last day towards the tribe of Israel. Whatever may 
be the nature of their office, or in whatever manner it 
may be performed, it must include the knowledge of 
individuals^ and of their relation to the present 
world. In other words, the apostles must know the 
persons submitted to their jurisdiction to be the 
twelve tribes of Israel, and it is equally plain that 
the Israelites must, on the other hand, be aware that 
their judges are the twelve apostles. But if this be 
admitted, what should hinder the individuals of 
either party from becoming known to one another? 
And, in the face of such evidence, on what ground 
can the belief of a general recognition amongst 
friends be reasonably called in question? Indeed, 
the doctrine of a diversified recompense^ appears 
to be no less agreeable to the discoveries of revela- 
tion than to the dictates of human reason, and pro- 
perly understood, constitutes the peculiar glory of 
the gospel. But does it not involve the certainty of 
future recognition as necessary to the accom.plish- 
ment of its moral designs? 

Among the lessons taught by Christ's transfigura- 
tion, is the doctrine under consideration. St. Luke 
(ix. 28—33) tells us that Christ " took Peter, and 
John, and James, and went up into a mountain to 
pray. And as he prayed, the fashion of his counte- 
nance was altered, and his raiment was white and 

* That there are difFerent degrees of glory in heaven cannot be ques- 
tioned, unless the following passages be overlooked: Dan. xii. 3; Matt. 
xiii.43; 1 Cor.xv.4l; Jamesv. 10; Rev.vii. 13—17; Rev.xxi. 10—17. 



108 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

glistering. And^ behold, there talked with him two 
men, which were Moses and Elias: who appeared in 
glory, and spake of his decease which he should ac- 
complish at Jerusalem. But Peter, and they that were 
with him, were heavy with sleep: and when they 
were awake, they saw his glory, and the two men that 
stood with him. And it came to pass, as they de- 
parted from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is 
good for us to be here: and let us make three taber- 
nacles 5 one for thee, one for Moses, and one for 
Elias: not knowing what he said.^^* 

In this extraordinary scene, which was doubtless 
intended to prepare the apostles for the Saviour's 
death, and support them in the prospect of it, by 
giving them an emblematical view of the happiness 
and glory of the heavenly world, we find evidence 
touching our subject the most appropriate and con- 
vincing. " Moses and Elias appeared, and talked 

^ Elijah came from heaven in the same body which he had upon earth, 
for he was translated^ and did not see death, 2 Kings ii. 2. The 
body of Moses was probably raised as a pledge of the resurrection ; and 
as Christ is to come to judge the quick and the dead (for we shall not 
all die, but all shall be changed) he probably gave the full representation 
of this in the person of Moses, who died, and was thus raised to life, (or 
appeared now as he shall appear when raised from the dead in the last 
day,) and in the person of Elijah who never tasted death. Both their 
bodies exhibited the same appearance, to show that the bodies of glorified 
saints are the same, whether the person be translated, or whether he 
had died» It was a constant, a prevalent tradition among the Jews, that 
botli Moses, and Elijah should appear in the times of the Messiah, and 
to this very tradition the disciples refer in Matt. xvii. 10. 

The transfiguration, then, appears, among other things, to have been 
intended to teach the reality of the world of spirits— the immortality of 
the soul — the resurrection of the body — and the doctrine of future re- 
wards and punishments. See Dr. A. Clarke. 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 109 

with Jesus/^ No matter that we do not understand 
how spirits can stand apart from each other, and be 
stamped wath marks of individuality. We know 
that angels are distinguishable one from the other, 
so that Michael is not confounded with Gabriel, and 
that, at length, when the trumpet shall sound, Christ 
will descend with a crowd of spirits all distinct, and 
all hasting to join their bodies springing from the 
dust of earth. Upon Mount Tabor, we behold two 
celestial visitants, w^ho lived in different periods of 
the world. They had been hundreds of years in 
their rest. Now they appear with all their marks of 
identity as distinct as when previously they appeared 
in tabernacles of clay, and sojourned in the land of 
Judea. Whether the apostles knew them in con- 
sequence of what they saw, or what they heard, or 
whether they were specially enabled to know them, 
does not appear from the narrative; but that they 
knew them, in someway, "is a recorded, and there- 
fore, an indisputable fact.^^ When, therefore, any 
of our dear friends have been summoned into the 
invisible world, we are not to regard them as lost 
amidst the crowd of spirits; or, when, we ourselves 
pass the limit which bounds our present view, and 
our spirits gaze abroad for the first time on all the 
wonders which are within the veil, we are not to 
imagine w^e shall not recognise at once all whom 
we knew and loved on earth, and be recognised by 
them. Spirits which we now suppose as viewless 
as the wind, will have some distinct marks of iden- 
tity which spirits can discern; and we shall find 



110 RECOaNITION AFTER DEATH 

ourselves as much objects of attention and interest 
in heaven or in the regions of wo, as if we were 
the only visitants that had ever penetrated into the 
glory of the one, or descended amidst the gloomy 
prisons of the other. 

Though Moses and Elias had long passed into 
the unseen world, and though Peter, and James, and 
John had never known them personally, yet they 
immediately knew them on the mount; and if so, 
why not also know them in heaven? Is it not an 
inspiring thought, that though the interesting ties 
of earth must be broken by the ruthless hand of 
death, they shall be repaired by a power that shall 
never decay, and made more glorious than eye hath 
seen, or ear heard, or hath entered into the heart of 
man to conceive! In heaven, there will be the 
welcome of friends, the rapturous meeting of those 
men whose names stand prominent in the annals of 
the church, the eternal joys of a heavenly compa- 
nionship, which no grief shall cloud, no pain inter- 
rupt, and no death destroy. 

The appearance, then, of Moses and Elias furnishes 
indubitable proof that the consciousness of the righ- 
teous, and their friendly intercourse with each other, 
are not in the least abated by the stroke of death. 

The passage in 1 Cor. xiii. 12, is sufficient of itself 
to settle the point in question: — "For we now see 
through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now 
I know in part; but then shall I know as also I am 
known.'^ 

Does this refer exclusively to God and divine 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. Ill 

things; as, for example, that we shall see God "face 
to face/^ and know his will not in part, but fully, 
&c. Or, shall our knowledge and vision be so gene- 
rally increased, as to enable us to recognise those 
whom we knew and loved on earth — or, while we 
become acquainted with them, as with other beings 
whom we never saw, shall our eyes be so "holden,^^ 
as not to be able to recognise them as old and fami- 
liar acquaintance? Or, while we recognise them as 
relatives and friends, can it be possible that our feel- 
ings of sympathy and love will never again be re- 
vived? These questions must be answered in the 
negative. 

Consider the design of St. Paul in the passage 
under consideration. "It is to contrast the obscure 
knowledge of Christians upon earth with that which 
they will acquire in the heavenly world. '^ Here 
our mental vision is indistinct, exhibiting heavenly 
things in an obscure and enigmatical manner. " We 
see through a glass darkly,^' or, as the passage is more 
literally and correctly rendered, by " means of a mir- 
ror obscurely.^^ But hereafter, our intellectual per- 
ception will be clear, like that which individuals have 
who behold each other "face to face.^^ "Now, I know 
in part; then shall I know as also 1 am known. ^'* 

* The allusion of St. Paul is to the mirrors of the ancients, which 
were usually made of polished brass or metal, liable to be tarnished, and, 
of course, to reflect objects obscurely and inaccurately. It is a common 
error to suppose the apostle to refer to the dim perception of things seen 
through semi-transparent substances. This divests the passage of 
its peculiar force and beauty— now "we see by means of a mirror ob- 
scurely; but then face to face." 



112 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

If the certainty of future recognition be not 
plainly intimated by the very point of allusion in 
(1 Cor. xiii. 12,) this passage, it is surely implied. 
The knowledge which is thus declared to transcend 
our present conceptions, must apply to persons as 
well as to things in general. We are now known 
to the omniscient God, and, perhaps, to the holy an- 
gels, who are the appointed and invisible guardians 
of all who are the '^ heirs of salvation;" and, it seems 
most reasonable to infer, that, in like manner we 
shall be known to each other in a world where our 
intercourse w^ill be more close, and our vision incon- 
ceivably clearer, than in the present life. 

The passage in Col. i. 2^^ is also much to our pur- 
pose: ^' Whom we preach, warning every man, and 
teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may pre- 
sent every man perfect, in Christ Jesus." 

These words are susceptible of two interpretations. 
In their first and perhaps, most obvious sense, they 
express St. PauPs extreme earnestness and anxiety 
in relation to the salvation of his converts. To bring 
men to Jesus, and when brought, to keep them stead- 
fast unto the end in faith and obedience, was the 
great work of his ministry. The passage, however, 
goes farther, and the last clause bears particularly on 
the subject under consideration: '^ That we may pre- 
sent every man perfect in Christ Jesus." By this, 
w^e understand the apostle to express his hope, that, 
at the general judgment, he might present to Christ 
the fruits of his ministry, the converts whom he had 
made, perfect in every good work. But^ hoWj with- 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 113 

out knowing his converts in the ivorld to come^ in 
their new and glorified state, could he desire or 
expect to present them to his Master? 

In order to do it, it is obviously necessary that 
he should be able to single them out of the uncounted 
multitudes which will then be convened before the 
Divine tribunal, and recognise in them the fruits of 
his ministerial faithfulness. "The passage, therefore, 
must be considered as affording most satisfactory 
proof that a mutual recognition will hereafter take 
place between ministers and the people committed 
to their care; and consequently, it must be received 
as another testimony in support of the general con- 
clusion, that Christians will be known to each other 
in a future existence.'^ Nay, we regard it as a most 
reasonable conclusion, that if St. Paul shall know his 
converts at the day of judgment, they also shall know 
each other. And if the converts know each other, 
why not all others who shall there assemble, espe- 
cially those who, like St. Paul, abound in the work of 
the Lord, and through whose instrum.entality many 
are turned to righteousness? Why may not the 
faithful Christian minister and his pious flock of this 
and every age, indulge this hope? Those who have 
turned many to righteousness shall triumph in that 
day. Then shall 

" Prophets, priests, 

Apostles, great reformers, all that seiTed 
Messiah faithfully, like stars appear 
Of fairest beam : round them gather clad 
In white, the Touchers of their ministry — 
The flock their care had nourished, 
Fed and saved." 
11 



114 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

The same truth is evidently taught in 1 Thess. ii. 
19, where the apostle says, "What is our hope, or 
joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the 
presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his second 
coming?" This passage most clearly implies that 
St. Paul expected to see and know his Thessalonian 
converts at the second advent of Christ.* The same 

* On this text, with a view to prove the doctrine under consideration, 
an eminent divine has the following pertinent remarks: — 

1. "The enjoyments and occupations of heaven are uniformly repre- 
sented as social: but where is the charm of society, without mutual 
knowledge] 

2. " Heaven is uniformly represented as perfecting all our faculties: 
is it then probable that it will diminish, nay, entirely abolish memory, one 
of the most important of them 1 

3. " The chief grace that will be exercised in the regions of the blessed, 
next to love to God, will be love to our companions in glory. But what 
kind of love is that which is felt for an object which we know not] 

4. " In the general judgment, which is appointed to vindicate the ways 
of God to man, it is certain that every individual will be known to the 
vast assembly, as distinct from all other persons. Is it probable that God, 
after thus making the blessed acquainted with each other, should imme- 
diately afterwards obliterate this knowledge] 

5. "It is certain that we shall see and know the glorious manhood of 
our blessed Saviour, elevated above all the heavenly powers; and if we 
know one body, why not more] if our Elder Brother, why not the rest 
of the heavenly fraternity ] 

6. " It is promised to the twelve apostles that they shall sit on twelve 
thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel: and if these thrones be con- 
spicuous, shall we not know the apostles] And if them, why not more] 

7. " During our Saviour's abode on earth, he afforded to three fa- 
voured disciples a glimpse of the heavenly glory: he himself was trans- 
figured, and Moses and Elias descended in celestial brilliancy : the disci- 
ples immediately knew Moses and Elias as distinct from the Saviour, 
and each as distinct from the other: and if the disciples knew them upon 
Tabor, why do they not know them in the New Jerusalem] 

8. " Our Saviour, in one of the most impressive of his parables, repre- 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 115 

remark may be made on his words in 2 Cor. iv. 14: 
" Knowing that he who raised up the Lord Jesus 
shall raise us up also by Jesus, and present us with 
you,^^ And also, in 2 Cor. i. 14: '^ As you have ac- 
knowledged us in part, that we are your rejoicings 
even so ye also are ours in the day of the Lord 
Jesus.^^^ In this hope, the apostle laboured instantly 
and incessantly, that he might be able to present, at 
last, every convert, '^perfect in Christ Jesus." 

The next passage which we adduce is that in 1 
Thess. iv. 13 — 18: "But I would not have you to 
be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are 
asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which 
have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died 
and rose again, even so them also which sleep in 
Jesus will God bring with him. For this we say 
unto you, by the word of the Lord, that we which 

sents the rich man in torments, knowing Lazarus and Abraham in glory: 
though it be a parable, yet parables convey no ideas inconsistent with 
truth; and we may therefore safely conclude, that if the accursed can 
know the blessed, much more shall the blessed know one another. 

9. " And, finally, we find the apostle Paul very frequently consoling 
himself under the sufferings and persecutions which he had to endure, 
by the prospect of meeting in heaven those who had been converted by 
his ministry on earth." 

Perhaps none of these, when taken singly, is conclusive : but, taken 
as a whole, they present a mass of evidence not easily resisted. 

* See fiirther proofs of recognition in the following passages: Rev. ii. 
13, where St. John recognises the Son of God, many years after his 
ascension; and Rev. xix. 10, where St. John himself would seem to be 
recognised by a spirit who called himself a fellow servant^ brother, <^c., 
of the apostle. And also Rev. vi. 9 — 11, where the souls under the 
altar are presumed to know each other, and where it is distinctly said 
that they had a remembrance of tlieir martyrdom in the service of God, 
and of the situation of their persecutors on the earth, &;c. 



116 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

are alive, and remain unto the coming of the Lord, 
shall not prevent them which are asleep. For the 
Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, 
with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump 
of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then 
we which are alive and remain shall be caught up 
together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord 
in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. 
Wherefore comfort one another with these words.^' 
"The specific and avowed design of the apostle in 
this passage,'' says a judicious writer, " is to give 
consolation:'' ^Wherefore comfort ye one another 
with these words.' The subject on which he pur- 
poses to furnish comfort, and regards himself as fur- 
nishing it satisfactorily, is the death of religious 
friends. ' I would not have you to be ignorant con- 
cerning them which are asleep;' them ^ which,' as 
it is subsequently explained, ' sleep in Jesus ' — are 
the ^dead in Christ.' Why not to be ignorant con- 
cerning them? ' That ye sorrow not as others which 
have no hope.' Why were not the Thessalonians 
to sorrow like others who had no hope? Because, 
as St. Paul implies in this direction, and proceeds to 
prove, they were fully warranted in having hope, and 
should forthwith receive from him the information 
which would establish it. Hope of what event? 
This question is the hinge on which the whole drift 
of the passage turns. Was it a hope that their de- 
parted friends should rise again? That there should 
be a resurrection of the dead, the Thessalonians were 
already certain. Like Martha, they knew that their 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 117 

departed friends should rise at the last day. The 
apostle, in administering comfort, is led to mention 
certain steps in the progress of the resurrection — to 
state that the righteous of that generation, which shall 
be found dwelling upon earth, at the arrival of the 
day of judgment, shall not have priority, as to the 
transformation of the body from corruptible into in- 
corruptible, over the pious previously dead : but he 
lets not fall the slightest intimation that any one 
among the Thessalonians, whom he addresses, had a 
doubt as to the resurrection itself. By incidentally 
detailing to them some steps in its progress, he re- 
cognises their admission of that grand and funda- 
mental doctrine. On that, therefore, they needed nei- 
ther additional hope nor comfort. As little did thejr 
doubt that holy men, including the pious friends whom 
they had lost, would be happy in a future existence. 
Neither, therefore, was the point on which instruction 
and consolation were needed. The only remaining 
point on which they needed comfort was this, — viz: 
whether, at the resurrection, they should regain 
those brethren whom they had lost: whether friend 
should be restored to friend with maintained remem- 
brances and conscious affections? Observe the com- 
forting assurance with which the apostle meets their 
solicitude. The comfort detached from the incidental 
details already noticed, with which it is blended, is 
contained in these two declarations: ^Them which 
sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him^ — 'and so 
shall we be ever with the Lord.' What consolation 
would it have been to the Thessalonians, sorrowing 

11* 



118 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

for the interruption of attachments severed by death, 
to be informed that Christ would bring with him the 
lamented friends, if no recognition of them was to 
ensue? Where would have been the comforting 
relevancy of the promise, " So shall we ever be with 
the Lord,'^ to the particular case to which St. Paul 
was applying his argument, if the reciprocal objects 
of affection, when thus brought together afresh, and 
for ever, in the kingdom of their Redeemer, were 
then to continue throughout eternity, ignorant each 
of the presence and identity of the other? But take 
the declaration as averring the earnestly desired 
restoration and recognition, and the relevancy is 
complete, the hope is exalted into certainty; the 
consolation is actual and perfect."* 

The details of the day of juds^ment furnish a 
strong argument in favour of future recognition.t "We 
must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, to 
give an account of the deeds done in the body.'^ 

The principle of perpetuated consciousness is 
clearly involved in our personal responsibility. 
It is fully recognised by the decisions of the great 
day. The assembled generations of the entire 
human race, are represented as individually retaining 
a perfect knowledge of their earthly proceedings. 
To that knowledge the judge appeals. He addresses 
himself to our recollection of the actions, motives, 
and principles of which an account is then to be ren- 
dered, and upon which the sentence is then to be 

* Gisborne. 

t This argument was briefly noticed in the chapter '' On the Reason- 
ableness of the doctrine of Future Recognition." 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 119 

pronounced. But must not the recollection of deeds, 
desires, &c., necessarily involve the recollection of 
individuals, the objects of the deeds, desires, &c.? 
Our conduct, whether good or bad, influences more 
or less the persons with whom we are associated. 
In the day of judgment, can we think of an injury 
committed, without also thinking of the circum- 
stances under which it was committed; and of the 
individual against whom it was committed? Does 
not the process of judgment involve all this? and if 
so, must not a recollection and recognition of others, 
the objects of our actions, be necessarily involved in 
the proceedings of the great day? Is the sin of 
which we are guilty covetousness? It is the covet- 
ing of the property of a particular individual. Is it 
envy, or malice, or robbery, or slander, or deceit? 
The sin is practised with a purpose of injuring some 
one. Is it pride or rivalry? It is directed against 
persons whom we regard as coming into comparison 
or competition with ourselves. Frequently, too, as 
sinners, we pursue our plans of evil, in confedera- 
tion with others. Now, with the obviously requisite 
changes, all these positions may be in substance trans- 
ferred to good actions and good designs. These indis- 
pensable recollections are possessed by every indivi- 
dual placed before the tribunal of Christ. Of the per- 
sons whom they respect, all are standing by the side 
of the offender, confronted with him, and giving an 
account before him of themselves, as he in their pre 
sence, is of himself to God. Every deed, every pur 
pose, brought to judgment, is receiving successively 



120 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

its own ineasure of aggravation^ or of extenuation, 
accordingly as the character of the deed, or of the 
purpose, is affected by reference to the earthly con- 
nexions, attachments, separations, and all the relative 
conditions and circumstances of the party by whom 
it was planned, and the party on whom it was in- 
tended to centre, parties reciprocally witnessing, 
each as to the other, every hidden action manifested, 
and every secret of the heart revealed* 

Now, though a diversity of opinion may be ex- 
pected with respect to the interpretation of some of 
the passages adduced, yet taken as a whole, and in 
connexion with the general tenor of revelation, the 
evidence which they supply in support of future 
recognition is, we think, sufficient to satisfy any rea- 
sonable mind. True, it may be objected, that they 
furnish no formal proof on the point which they 
are adduced to establish. Suppose this to be true, 
what then? Does it follow that the whole argument 
falls to the ground? Nay, this would be irrational. 
Men accustomed to examine and weigh evidence know 
that proof is not the less certain and valid, because of 
its implied and incidental character. When a doc- 
trine is assumed as the basis of any reasoning, or ap- 
pears to be casually wrought into the texture of an il- 
lustration, it is evidently supposed to be true^ — nay, 
such a use of the doctrine amounts to a positive af- 
firmation of it; since it originates in a belief that 
it is too obvious, or too generally received, to require 
that it should be made the subject of explicit state- 
ment, or formal discussion. The evidence in such 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 121 

a case is analogous to that which accompanies the in- 
cidental testimony of a credible historian, which 
every one is aware, is often stronger than that of a 
direct assertion. The existence of God, for exam- 
ple, is no less certainly anounced in the language 
with which the Bible opens, than if this fundamental 
doctrine had been propounded in formal and posi- 
tive terms. This remark is applicable to the subject 
which we have been discussing: for it is plain from 
the passages advanced, as well as from the general 
language of the scriptures, that the certainty of fu- 
ture recognition, and extended consciousness, is taken 
for granted, as many other important truths, which 
no professing Christian ever thinks of calling in ques- 
tion. 

The foregoing passages of Scripture, therefore, 
leave us no room to doubt, whether human con- 
sciousness will be retained hereafter, and whether 
w^e shall have individually the retrospective know- 
ledge of one another in a future state, w^hich recog- 
nition necessarily involves. We shall know each 
other, because, instead of ^^ seeing through a glass 
darkly,'' we shall "See face to face.'' 

Though we may have succeeded in establishing 
the doctrine of future reunion and recognition, yet 
another link is wanting to complete the chain of 
evidence on the present subject, and to connect what 
has been advanced with the conclusion at which we 
hope soon to arrive. We have shown that we shall 
meet hereafter and recognise each other: this may 
be true, and yet there may follow no friendship in 



122 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

the sense of specific affection. The question then 
is, will we not only meet and recognise each other, 
but realize again our wonted preferences for each 
other ? We regard this question as admitting of an 
affirmative answer. 

In the first place, we know that the preferences of 
pious friendship, in this life, are not inconsistent with 
feelings of the most extended benevolence. Nay, if 
there be any one thing above another, which distin- 
guishes the religion of Christ, it is the spirit of en- 
larged and enlightened charity. If, therefore, we 
know any thing of the better world, it must be this, 
'^that there no capricious preferences will be felt, 
no separate interests pursued, and nothing, in short, 
countenanced, which might, in the least degree, ob- 
struct the free circulation of charity throughout the 
entire body of its virtuous and blissful inhabitants. 
Love, without the admixture of any contracted sen- 
timent, will, doubtless, be the presiding temper of 
the place, the invisible chain which will bind them 
together in a harmonious and happy fraternity. But 
does it ioWov^^ihdii particular friendships dM^incom- 
patible with such a state of things? Facts suffi- 
ciently decide the question, without any appeal to the 
laws and circumstances which regulate the exercise 
of the benevolent principle. That such partialities 
may consist with feelings of exalted and expansive 
charity, may be proved by a reference to men who 
have, in an eminent degree, united them in their own 
character; and above all, we might advert to the au- 
thoritative example of our Saviour himself. Though 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 123 

he breathed the spirit of the purest philanthropy, — 
the very spirit of the celestial world,-— yet, he had his 
particularfriendsjhis partial and private attachments/' 
Hence, we read of "the disciple whom Jesus loved;'' 
and one of the evangelists, in relating a miracle which 
Jesus performed at Bethany, by restoring to life one 
who had lain in the grave several days, introduces 
his narrative by observing, that ^^ Jesus loved Laza- 
rus/' intimating that the affection was distinct and 
peculiar from that general benevolence with which 
he was actuated towards all mankind. And accord- 
ingly, when the sisters of Lazarus sent to acquaint 
Christ with the state in which their brother lay, they 
did not even mention his name, but simply said, 
''He ivhom thou lovest is sickj^ And when Christ 
informed his disciples of the intelligence thus re- 
ceived, he says, "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth." 
Now^ that Christ did not use, on this occasion, the 
word "friend" in its loose acceptation, but in are- 
strained and strictly appropriate sense, is not only 
manifest from the simple narrative of the fact, but 
appears further from the sequel. For, as he was ad- 
vancing to the grave, accompanied by the relations 
of the deceased, he discovered the same emotions of 
grief as swelled the bosoms of those with whom La- 
zarus had been most intimately connected, and sym- 
pathizing with their common sorrows, he melted 
into tears. This circumstance was too remarkable 
to escape particular observation, and it drew from 
the spectators, w^hat one should think it must neces- 
sarily draw from every reader, the natural and ob- 



124 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

vious reflection, — ^^ Behold how he loved him!" 
" But in the concluding catastrophe of our Saviour's 
life, he gave a still more decisive proof that senti- 
ments of the strongest personal attachment and 
friendship were not unworthy of being admitted 
into his sacred bosom; they were too deeply indeed 
impressed, to be extinguished even by the most ex- 
cruciating torments. In those dreadful moments, 
observing amongst those afflicted witnesses of his 
ignominious death, ' the disciple whom he loved,' 
he distinguished him by the most convincing in- 
stance of superior confidence, esteem, and affection 
that was ever exhibited to the admiration of man- 
kind. For under circumstances of the most agoni- 
zing torment, when it might be thought impossible 
for human nature to retain any other sensibility than 
that of its own inexpressible sufferings, he recom- 
mended to the care and protection of his tried and 
approved friend, in terms of peculiar regard and en- 
dearment, the most tender and sacred object of his 
private affections. But no language can represent 
this pathetic and affecting scene with a force and 
energy equal to the sublime simplicity of the evan- 
gelist's own narrative: ^ Now there stood by the cross 
of Jesus his mother, and his mother's sister, Mary 
the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When 
Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple 
standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mo- 
ther. Woman, behold thy son! Then saith he to 
the disciple. Behold thy mother! And from that 
hour that disciple took her unto his own home.' " 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 125 

Nothing more is necessary to prove, not only the 
accordance of specific affection with the laws of a 
perfect being, but the extreme probability of its ex- 
istence hereafter, as far as it may coincide with the 
more general principle of benevolence. Indeed, the 
very nature of Christian friendship is such as, in the 
language of one, "to provide against the encroach- 
ment of the private affections; for as the basis of the 
connexion is the existence and appreciation of moral 
excellence, it cannot be maintained in opposition to 
the common good, or apart from the spirit of phi- 
lanthropy, without debasing its character, and vio- 
lating the principle on which it rests. If virtue be 
loved at all for its own sake, it will be loved wher- 
ever it is beheld, or in whomsoever it dwells, and 
will secure for itself the confidence and compla- 
cency of every holy being. And Christian friend- 
ship being founded on love to God, it is obvious, 
that the more vigorous it becomes, the more must it 
warm and expand the bosoms of the parties between 
whom it is formed, with the sentiments of extended 
charity. It recognises a principle, which maintains 
a due balance between opposing claims; and hence it 
is not difficult to account for the fact, that they who 
are most distinguished by the virtues and attach- 
ments of private life, are, in general, equally eminent 
for the philanthropy of their sentiments, and the 
self-denying energy of their zeal for the public 
good.^' 

Let it be remembered, too, that friendship neces- 
12 



126 RECOGKITION AFTER DEATH 

sarily arises out of the very nature of things, and 
that therefore it cannot be limited to the present 
mode of existence. Wherever there is society, there 
must of necessity be friendship; else all the members 
of the society must be in every characteristic alike; 
but the redeemed in heaven constitute one happy 
society, with diversity of taste, sentiment, &c. ; for 
"one star differeth from another star, in glory ,^^ there- 
fore, among the redeemed above, as below, there 
must be the exercise of the specific affection which 
we call friendship. If, then, as we have shown, the 
recollection of Christian friends will survive the 
stroke of mortality, with all the pure and best affec- 
tions of their nature, how is it possible that, entering 
into the society of the multitude which no man can 
number, their unions should be vague or merely ge- 
neral in their character? We find differences of 
perception, taste, judgment, &c., among the best and 
holiest men on earth, which lead us to sympathize 
with some more than with others: and, as religion 
does not annihilate our peculiarities of temper, and 
manner, what reason have we to suppose that death 
will: and if we pass into the better world vvith all 
our distinctive peculiarities, why may they not there, 
as here, give rise to preferences and friendships 
which shall continue throughout eternity? The Al- 
mighty has constituted us for society, — given us 
characteristic peculiarities which we know religion 
does not impair, and which we believe the mere cir- 
cumstance of death will not in the least affect: on 
these we found our choice of friends and companions; 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE, 127 

and, carrying with us the same characteristic pecu- 
liarities into the world to come, does it not neces- 
sarily follow, that we shall revive ancient friendships 
there, as well as form new ones, as we come, from 
time to time, w^ithin the sphere of new attractions? 

Oh! what a delightful idea does this truth give us 
of the felicity of heaven! Surely nothing save our 
vision of God can equal the pysoi knowing and being 
known to the members of the Redeemer's family; of 
living in an eternal brotherhood; of forming an in- 
dissoluble connexion with the pious of every clime 
and age! Who can conceive the raptures of such an 
intercourse! No ignorance — no unkindly affection 
— no irregular passion — no blind zeal — nor any 
narrow or selfish views, shall, in the slightest de- 
gree, impair their bliss; or abate the affection of one 
for the other. Throughout, there will be a perfect 
harmony in will, in practice, and in every thing es- 
sential. How cheering such a prospect to the soul 
that here perceives the contention, selfishness, and 
guilt that characterize all human associations, and 
mingle with the enjoyments of every earthly society? 

In order to form some conception of the joy result- 
ing from future recognition, '' 1 imagine to myself a 
believer who has been loosed, by the hand of death, 
from the fetters of earth, and who, borne on the v^ings 
of angels to his home, begins to breathe the air of hea- 
ven. Methinks 1 behold his arrival hailed, first, by 
those pious friends to whom his soul was bound, but 
who entered before him into glory, and left him in 
tears. He meets again that father, that mother, 



128 RECOGNITION AFTER DEATH 

whose wisdom and tenderness directed him in all the 
vicissitudes of life, who forgot him not in their last 
moments, but poured upon him their dying benedic- 
tion. He sees once more that child who was torn 
from his reluctant arms; that wife, over whose tomb 
he has wept; that friend, whose loss made the earth 
a joyless desert for him! There the mothers of 
Bethlehem find their martyred infants, in a land 
where Herod does not reign, where his malice can- 
not reach! There Jacob sees his Rachel, and, in the 
transports of re-union, forgets the sorrow with which 
he raised the monumental pillar on the plains of 
Bethlehem ! There David presses Jonathan to his 
breast, and expresses his joy in accents still more 
impassioned than those in which he lamented his fall 
upon Gilboa! 

'' Judge, ye who have felt the powers of friendship 
or afiection, and who have also felt the pangs of se- 
paration from those who possessed and deserved your 
attachment; judge of the felicity that is to be derived 
from such a meeting, when these friends shall again 
mingle together their hearts and souls, with a full as- 
surance that death shall never again tear them asun- 
der!'^ If Jacob, in meeting again his beloved son, 
after a long and painful separation, threw himself 
into his arms with such delight, and uttered with 
such rapture, " Now let me die, since I have seen thy 
face, my son, because thou art yet alive,'' who can 
imagine the rapture of meeting our friends in that 
better world, where " the tabernacle of God is with 
men!" 



A SCRIPTURAL DOCTRINE. 129 

Finally, it would seem that we have every reason 
to believe that we shall hereafter remember and 
identify each other, — that we shall retain the social 
affections and peculiarities which give rise to prefe- 
rences and friendships here, as far as shall be consist- 
ent with the pure and spiritual character of the future 
state; and that our recollections, perpetuated affections, 
and peculiarities will constitute the basis of renewed 
friendships and preferences which shall exist and be 
perpetuated in accordance with the law of universal 
love. 



12 



130 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 



CHAPTER VIIL 

DIFFICULTIES AND OBJECTIONS, CONNECTED WITH 
THE DOCTRINE OF FUTURE RECOGNITION AND 
PERPETUATED FRIENDSHIP, ANSWERED. 

■ — I have heard you say, 

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. 

If that be true, I shall see my boy again; 

For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, 

To him that did but yesterday suspire, 

There was not such a gracious creature born. 

But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, 

And chase the native beauty from his cheek, 

And he will look as hollow as a ghost; 

As dim and meagre as an ague's fit; 

And so he'll die; and, rising so again. 

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven, 

I shall not know him: therefore, never, never, 

Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. 

Constance. 

The doctrine of future recognition and perpetuated 
friendship, rests, as we conceive, on satisfactory evi- 
dence. But as, from its nature, it cannot be rigidly- 
demonstrated, like a problem in mathematics, we are 
prepared to believe that it will be opposed by some, 
and called in question by others. We have not un- 
dertaken to make out the argument as an eternal and 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 131 

incontestable truth. Nay, If we were to believe no- 
thing but that which admits of rigid demonstration, 
then our labour has been to little or no purpose. But 
as it is reasonable for a person to be determined in 
his opinions even by a fair amount of preponderating 
evidence, we are satisfied with the result. For as 
we maintain, a future reunion of friends, to say the 
least, is more probable than separation; or rather, 
this alone is probable, and has any positive arguments 
in its favour. Nay, ^tis probable that no diversity of 
opinion would ever have arisen on the subject, had 
it not been for certain philosophical suggestions 
which arise incidentally in the speculative mind. To 
remove the two principal objections thus opposed, 
will be the business of this chapter. First: His ad- 
mitted, that immediately after death a great change 
will occur in all the circumstances of our being. Our 
present mode of existence shall then be succeeded 
by one very dissimilar. We shall exchange worlds — 
commingle with millions of strange beings — and 
enter upon a new mode of existence. Until the 
resurrection, we shall not repossess our own bodies, 
and, perhaps, none of those characteristics and pecu- 
liarities of form and complexion by which we are 
now recognised. And even after the resurrection, 
when we assume our renovated bodies, they will be 
very different from what they are now in quality 
and appearance: "sown in weakness, it shall be raised 
in power; sown a natural body, it shall be raised a 
spiritual body; sown in corruption, it shall be raised 
in incorruption.'^ These changes, some think, will 



132 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

render recognition impossible. This is a plausible, 
though not an insurmountable objection; and we 
oppose to it the superior intelligence of the just 
^^made perfect/' which infinitely surpasses that of the 
holiest man on earth. There we shall know as we 
are known, and see as we are seen. As regards the 
intermediate state, there will be none of the corpo- 
real senses or bodily peculiarities by which we are 
here accustomed to recognise each other. But there 
will be other equally certain means of recognition. 
^' Some writers/^ for example, " can be recognised 
by their style, and some painters by the peculiar 
character or touch of their pencil; and may not dis- 
embodied spirits recognise each other from the cha- 
racter of their thoughts? Besides, it must be ad- 
mitted, that pure spirits have means of knowledge, 
communication, and recognition, of which men in 
their present state are destitute, and of which we 
have no conception: otherwise angels could have no 
knowledge of each other, and, of course, no mutual 
recognition; which is absurd, and altogether at vari- 
ence with reason and revelation. But, if pure spi- 
rits, the unsinning angels of God, can know and re- 
cognise each other, why may not the righteous dead 
be endowed with similar faculties? To say that they 
are not, would be to measure the possibilities of spi- 
ritual being by our ignorance, and to contend, not 
that man is a little lower than the angels, but that he 
is higher; and that the intermediate state, instead of 
being an advance in our being, is inferior to our pro- 
bationary state.^^ If the intermediate state, then, is 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 133 

an advance upon the present, it must include all 
that is interesting and valuable to us here, and more 
also; otherwise we should retrograde. Besides, 
though the bodily organs be so many inlets of know- 
ledge, yet, let the body be dissolved, and the spirit 
shall be conscious of a thousand objects of which it 
before was ignorant. It may know all it ever did 
know, and much more. Such a conclusion is neces- 
sary, if the intermediate be an advance upon the 
probationary state. 

With regard to recognition, after the resurrection, 
there is less difficulty in the common mind. Though 
the resurrection bodies will far exceed our present 
bodies, yet they will still bear so much resemblance 
to what they once were, so many marks of identity, 
as to enable the just made perfect to recognise each 
other at once. As evidence of the resemblance of 
the body after the resurrection, to what it was before 
death, we may adduce the fact, that our Lord's dis- 
ciples frequently saw and generally recognised Him 
in His risen body, previous to his ascension. And 
as the bodies of the saints are to be "fashioned 
like unto his glorious body,'' there is no reason to 
suppose that they who were acquainted with each 
other on earth, will not recognise each other in 
heaven. 

Secondly: The other objection is, that memory^ 
which is necessary to recognition, involves many 
difficulties. 'Tis true that it is not always fa- 
vourable to the happiness of man. There are re- 
membrances and associations which he would banish 



1 34 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

from his mind, as unfavourable to his peace and moral 
progress. The full extension, therefore, of conscious- 
ness into eternity, is by some concluded to be incom- 
patible with the happiness, promised to the heirs 
of immortality. If this, indeed, were really the case, 
it would be suJEEcient to meet the difficulty by " sup- 
posing a miraculous interposition on the part of the 
Deity, to efface entirely from the memories of the 
blessed all ideas of past occurrences, which might 
awaken any other than agreeable sensations. As- 
suming, how^ever, what is far more probable, that 
they will possess the full power of reminiscence, 
we might ask, whether it is not reasonable to pre- 
sume, that every objection, levelled on this ground, 
against the subject, derives its plausibility from 
the circumstance of overlooking the wide differ- 
ence between their present and future conditions? 
It is surely neither irrational, nor inconsistent with 
a becoming sense of human infirmity, to suppose that 
the recollection of an unwelcome event hereafter 
can be voluntarily expelled from the mind, or will 
have no other effect than to increase the gra- 
titude of the redeemed, and enhance the joys of hea- 
ven. Standing on the mount of eternal safety, with 
what unspeakable delight may we conceive them to 
look down upon the valley of sin and humiliation 
beneath them! every painful emotion being absorbed 
in the overflowings of their joy and thankfulness to 
Him who redeemed them by his blood, and con- 
ducted them by his providence, to an incorruptible 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 135 

and unfading inheritance. And since the moral 
perfection to which they will then have attained, 
forbids us to suppose that memory, or any other fa- 
culty, will be apphed to a sinful or unworthy pur- 
pose, may we not presume, that many of those recol- 
lections which now find a frequent, and, alas! unwel- 
come entrance into their minds, to the great detriment 
of their peace and improvement, will find no place in 
the associations of eternity!" Here the most wise 
and holy persons are but in the beginning of their 
existence, and often attach vast importance to cir- 
cumstances which, when they have reached in ano- 
ther world, will appear as the toys which are wont to 
engage an infant's thoughts and afiections. ^^ When," 
says an apostle, "I was a child, I spake as a child, I 
thought as a child, I understood as a child; but when 
I became a man, I put away childish things." And 
yet, while this is the case, every thing must appear to 
be unspeakably interesting, which shall be found to 
have had the least influence in forming the religious 
character of any human being. Nor will a single efibrt 
made for this purpose, awaken, we may conceive, 
less gratitude in the bosom of its happy object, be- 
cause it was put forth by beings who were struggling 
under the burden of sin and sorrow, and pressing 
with toil and solicitude, towards the crown of life. 
The objection under consideration is presented 
under another aspect, peculiarly plausible, and there- 
fore requiring especial notice. 'Tis suggested that 
the ability to recognise our kindred and friends, in 
the world to come, would enable us to discover 



136 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

the absence of many of the objects of our affections; 
and that such a discovery would make even glorified 
saints unhappy. As those who are excluded from 
the mansions of bliss, will be in wo, can such know- 
ledge consist with that of perfect felicity which is 
the anticipated and promised portion of every be- 
liever? How often does the loss of a dear friend fill 
the heart with sorrow, and rob life of more than half 
its enjoyments? But suppose this friend, whose wel- 
fare is so nearly connected with our happiness, should 
be for ever separated from us, and consigned to the 
abodes of misery, must not the consciousness of his 
condition imbitter our pleasure, and throw a gloom 
over the brightest scenes of eternity? 

This objection, which we have thus endeavoured 
to state in its full force, constitutes, perhaps, the 
main ground on which the notion of perpetuated 
consciousness is received by many with great hesi- 
tation, or rejected as visionary, and incompatible 
with future happiness. This subject suits not the 
formality of discussion. It is so likely to implicate 
the feelings, and unfit the mind for calm and impartial 
inquiry, that after all that may be said, the attempt 
must, in many instances, prove quite unavaihng to 
produce any thing like a favourable conviction. Yet, 
as the objection is one which most materially affects 
the question before us, and concerning which much 
misapprehension prevails, a few remarks may here 
with propriety be submitted to expose the fallacy of 
the principles on which it rests. 

Let it then be observed, that the difficulty arises, 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 137 

in no small degree, from the circumstance of looking 
at the subject through the medium of those earthly 
affections, which will find no place in the new and 
spiritual constitution which is to be set up in the 
future world. "The instinctive principle — though 
it has been employed to account for more of the phe- 
nomena of mind than the rules of sound philosophy 
can warrant — is a primary element in the constitution 
of man. It mingles with the current of our associa- 
tions, modifies our feelings, and exerts over the mind 
an influence, which, in regard to uniformity and force, 
bears a striking resemblance to the great law of gra- 
vitation which the Creator has impressed on inani- 
mate creation. It is probable, that the most pure 
and refined affections contain some portion of flesh 
and blood— some earthly admixture, which will not 
enter into celestial happiness. The aid of the in- 
stinctive principle is peculiarly necessary in social 
and domestic life; and it is here, therefore, that its 
power is especially felt, and exhibited in those forms 
of tenderness, sympathy, and assiduous care, which 
so much contribute to the happiness of the human 
family. How much of the love which blends itself 
with the various relations of kindred and consangui- 
nity, is to be placed to the score of natural affection 
and conventional want, it would be diflicult, and per- 
haps, impossible, to determine. But it is obvious 
that no small proportion flows from this source. 

The justice of this remark is, for instance, very 
strikingly seen in the affection of the fond mother 
towards her infant babe. Whence come those bursts 
13 



138 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

of inaternal tenderness with which she is wont to 
caress the much loved object? Whence those ex- 
pressions of heart-felt sympathy with which she 
enters into its pains and innocent pleasures — the 
promptness with which she administers to its many 
little wants — the unwearied assiduity with which 
she watches over it in the hour of sickness, and the 
bitter sorrow into which she is plunged as soon as 
death tears it from her fond embrace? It is the im- 
pulse of animal nature — the flow and specific direc- 
tion of a certain class of feelings, which are not to be 
accounted for on any principle of duty, or on any 
consideration of general humanity/' 

Now, if the Christian carried into a future world 
all the natural afiections of the present life, they 
would, for aught that appears to the contrary, become 
the source of inquietude, and imbitter the enjoyments 
of eternity. But then, the wants and feelings arising- 
from our corporeal nature, — the perpetuation of which 
the objection in question evidently presupposes, — are 
designed to answer a temporary purpose; and revela- 
tion gives us to understand, as we have had occasion 
to notice, that death will determine them, and intro- 
duce a constitution under which the righteous " will 
be as the angels of God.'' This very important con- 
sideration conducts us one step at least towards the 
resolution of the difficulty. For it teaches us that 
the Christian must stand hereafter in a very different 
position from that in which he is at present towards his 
irreligious friends. Divested of all those earthly ten- 
dencies, and unholy passions, which often pervert his 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 1 39 

judgment and enslave his better feelings, he will be 
prepared to look at their condition with the eye of 
unsophisticated reason, and to contemplate them in 
the essential and moral attributes of their nature. 

If, then, in the future world, they will be regarded 
in their character and relation to eternity, what will 
remain to attach them to redeemed and perfected 
beings? The objection supposes them to be unholy 
intelligences; for there are only two classes into 
which the human family will be divided; and none 
will be excluded from the presence of God, but those 
who finally reject the Saviour, or die in an impeni- 
tent state. '^ Such persons will not only want the 
requisite title of admittance into a better world, but 
they will be morally unfit for the employments, and 
fellowship of that sacred place. When, too, the re- 
straints, the disguises, and the factitious qualities, 
which now often conceal the real character, shall 
vanish for ever, and the secrets of all hearts shall be 
revealed, it is manifest that the impenitent cannot 
fail to be seen as they truly are, and that they will 
appear to be destitute of every virtuous principle, 
and at enmity with God. Were it, therefore, possi- 
ble for any of them to enter heaven, is it to be sup- 
posed that they would be regarded with other feel- 
ings than those of moral aversion by its holy inhabi- 
tants? Recollections, indeed, might be awakened, 
but would they have any central point of compla- 
cency, or possibl}^ produce any cordial sympathy 
amongst beings delivered from the influence of every 
mere instinctive or animal affection, and having for 



140 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

the basis and regulating principle of every attach- 
ment, a strict and undeviating regard to moral excel- 
lence?'^^ 

In heaven our ivills shall perfectly accord with 
the ivill of God. We shall have no separate desires 
and inclinations from him. We shall see that all 
he does is wisest and best, and deserving of our unqua- 
lified approbation. Here we not unfrequently revolt 
against his appointments, because we bear within us 
the remains of a corrupt nature; or because we do 
not fully comprehend his designs; or because in our 
hearts the affection for God has not that superiority 
over our affection for the objects of earth which it 
ought to have. But in heaven, where not only the 
dominion, but even the existence of depravity, shall 
be destroyed in our souls, — in heaven, where we shall 
so far comprehend the reason of God's conduct as to 
perceive that his attributes must be destroyed if he 
acted otherwise, — in heaven, where love to the crea- 
ture will justly be subordinated to love to the Crea- 
tor, our wills shall be so absorbed in God's, as to 
form but one with it; and, of course, no murmur will 
escape — no pang rend our hearts — for any of his 
dealings with those whom we loved on earth. 

Besides, the nature of the love required of us, af- 
fords another answer to the objection under conside- 
ration. It is required that we love God supremely, 
and nothing else save in him^ and for him. This is 
never found here in perfection. Natural and spiri- 
tual affection are always, to some extent, mingled 
* Muston. 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 141 

together. But in heaven, this frame of soul is found 
in its perfection. The love which " men made per- 
fecf have for each other, is free from all earthlj?" 
mixture; and all the bonds of nature are spiritualized. 
"Now, since this is the temper of the heavenly host, — 
as God is the centre of their love, — as it is exclusively 
from affection to him that affection to other objects 
emanates, it is easy to conceive that the blessed may 
bear, without a diminution of their felicity, a separa- 
tion from the persons that possessed their hearts" 
on earth, as their affection for these persons will then 
return to its centre, and be again confounded with 
the love which they bear to the great Supreme. 

Some have thought that the Almighty, in his good- 
ness, will withhold from his saints the power to re-, 
member those whom they once loved, but who die 
in impenitence and are lost. That he could do so, 
if disposed, none can deny. But from what has been 
said, we cannot regard such a deprivation necessary 
to the perfection of the happiness of the world to 
come. As we have seen, "all will then have such 
unlimited confidence in the goodness, justice, and 
wisdom of God, and see so clearly the excellence of 
His laws, and the equity of His government, that 
they will cheerfully acquiesce in all His judgments. 
And the wickedness and ingratitude of final impeni- 
tence, and the rejection of the Son of God, will then 
be so manifest, that all love towards persons guilty 
of these aggravated sins will cease, and no sympa- 
thy with their miseries be felt, and no desire to see 
them in heaven he cherished. Nay, even here, the 

13^ 



142 OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 

people of God are enabled cheerfully, though mourn- 
fully, to submit to the stroke which carries off some 
whom they love, unprepared to meet their righteous 
Judge. Yea, the very essence of our holy religion 
is to be conformed to God, and submit to his arrange- 
ments. The same mind should be in us which was 
in Him who said, ' Not my will, but thine be done.' 
In the future world, there will be such a perfect co- 
incidence between our volitions and those of our 
Maker, as to deprive the objection we have been con- 
sidering of all its force. Order, heaven's universal 
rule, will shape our whole conduct, and in every 
thing, regulate our desires. To suppose, then, that 
the doom of an impenitent friend will awaken any 
other feelings than those of the profoundest reverence 
for the authority of God, and the most perfect acqui- 
escence in His will, is to impute to holy intelligences 
the views, sentiments, and infirmities which can be- 
long only to sinful and imperfect creatures." 

Though "God is love,'' and cannot but look with 
ineffable tenderness upon his creatures, yet, his hap- 
piness is not, and cannot be impaired by the suffer- 
ings which his unerring rectitude has doomed the 
impenitent to realize. So also the angels of heaven, 
who take the most lively interest in our race, and 
who are inconceivably better acquainted than we can 
be with the precise condition of the lost, and with 
the direful consequences of sin, enjoy, nevertheless, 
undisturbed tranquillity and perfect happiness. "The 
sentiments with which they contemplate the severest 
inflictions of divine wrath, are those of adoring reve- 



OBJECTIONS ANSWERED. 143 

rence, and perfect confidence in the equity of the 
Almighty's decisions. Their language on such oc- 
casions, is imbodied in the discoveries of revelation; 
they are represented as saying, in reference to the 
vials of Divine vi^rath, ' Even so, Lord God Almighty, 
true and righteous are thy judgments.' 

" Thus, therefore, it would seem that the most 
intense benevolence, combined with the full know- 
ledge of the awful doom of fallen creatures, is by no 
means incompatible with perfect peace. Nor can 
we reasonably suppose that it will be otherwise in 
regard to the glorified spirits of righteous men, who 
will be made like God, and the angels of heaven.''^ 

* Muston. 



144 CONSOLATION ON THE 



CHAPTER IX. 

CONSOLATORY REFLECTIONS ON THE LOSS OF CHRIS- 
TIAN FRIENDS. 

Pass the few fleeting moments more, 
And death the blessing shall restore, 

Which death hath snatched away: 
For me, thou wilt the summons send, 
And give me back my parted friend, 

In that eternal day. C. Wesley. 

Although our death is certain, yet 'tis an event 
for which we were not created. Death entered into 
the world by sin, and hath passed upon all men, for 
that all have sinned. It is a breaking up of our pre- 
sent mode of existence, attended with circumstances 
calculated to teach us that it is a calamity in which 
we have been involved, rather than a method of 
transition from one state to another, originally ap- 
pointed by our Creator. We fear to die. We dread 
it even apart from all that is beyond it, and all the 
painof partingwith ourfriends,andcIosingupthe plans 
of the present life. God evidently designed that it 
should be repulsive, and that we should shrink back, 
and look on it as we do on nothing else. The very 



LOSS OF FRIENDS. 145 

terms with which it is described show how deeply 
this instinctive horror of it is fixed in the human mind^ 
and how man every where fears it. It is spoken of 
as "the king of terrors;'^ and we read of "the val- 
ley of the shadow of death. '^ ^Tis not a vale on 
which a pleasant light rests, where flowers difiuse 
their fragrance, and where the air is pure and balmy; 
but 'tis a deep gloomy valley, where death, repre- 
sented as a dark object standing between us and 
the light, casts a dismal shade on every object 
around. That the Almighty might have caused 
death to affect us differently, if he had been so in- 
clined, none will pretend to deny. For any thing 
that appears, he might have made it that it would 
be no more dreaded than a gentle slumber; and a 
body, from which the breath had departed for ever, 
he could have made an object no more repulsive than 
is a sleeping infant. If death had always come with- 
out a struggle, — calmly as we go to sleep: if the glow 
of beauty had always remained on the cheek; and if 
the eye were never glazed and darkened; it is easy 
to see that death might have had no more natural 
terrors, than the changes of the autumnal leaf, or 
the sweetest slumbers. But, it is otherwise, and 
it is clear that God meant it should be so: He 
has hung around it images of gloom for our 
instruction. We behold in its terrors proofs 
of God's moral government, and learn an im- 
pressive lesson of the evil of sin. There is some- 
thing about the death of every man, whether 
holy or unholy, which is intended to be expressive 



146 CONSOLATION ON THE 

of the fact that we are not what God made us, or 
would have us to be. To fix the attention on 
the evils of the apostacy, — to make us feel that it 
is an exceedingly important event, — to keep us from 
dismissing it from the mind as a trifle, and to pre- 
serve us, amid the trials and temptations of life, from 
rushing uncalled into his presence, God has made 
death what it is, what it always has been, and 
w^hat it always will be. He has filled " the valley 
of the shadow of death,^^ with apprehended "evils," 
and so constituted man that he instinctively dreads 
the hour of his departure. 

And yet, cheerless and gloomy as is the " valley 
of the shadow of death," — there are considerations 
connected with it well calculated to inspire the heart 
of the true Christian. Christ hath vanquished death, 
and sprinkled the clay cold grave with the unfading 
flowers of Paradise. He hath made it the gate of 
endless bliss. Though death demolish our taberna- 
cle of cla)^, it cannot injure the precious soul. As 
the waves that beat and dash against the rock cannot 
harm it, so all the powers of death united cannot 
harm this particle of divinity, the soul of the true 
Christian. 

Sin, the sting of death, being removed, the grave 

shall prove but a subterranean passage to a better 

world; and yet, men 

" Linger, trembling on the brink, 
And fear to launch away." 

True, our fears and hesitation were not, perhaps, 
intended to be wholly overcome: and yet, there 



LOSS OF FRIENDS. 147 

is much to reconcile the good man to his fate 
in this respect. Would it not, for example, be 
exceedingly unreasonable for the mariner to la- 
ment, ^vhen a favourable wind wafted his ship into a 
secure harbour, at the commencement of a tremendous 
storm? Or would it not be very unreasonable for a 
prisoner to express his dissatisfaction, when a friend 
opened his dungeon, and gave him his liberty; and 
even if this friend appeared in a terrific form, and as- 
sumed a menacing attitude and hostile gestures, yet, 
when he found he was no enemy, but a friend, whjo 
came to open his prison doors; surely, he should 
receive him with the m.ost pleasurable sensations. 
Equally unreasonable is it to have a slavish fear of 
death, or shrink when he approaches to conduct us 
to mansions in the skies. 

One reason why we are so terrified when death 
enters our domestic circle is, that in prosperity we 
rarely think that sickness and death are moving to- 
wards us: in a word, we do not prepare for death as 
we should do, and as we usually do for every thing else. 
Another cause of our dissatisfaction is, we do not re- 
flect so much on the miseries that death w^ill deliver 
us from, as upon the earthly gratifications of which 
it will deprive us. We think more of the decay and 
corruption of the body, than of the joy and happiness 
into which the soul shall be ushered. We think too 
much of self, and too little of Christ, who died that 
we might live — who entered the grave that we might 
triumph over it. The word of God assures us that 
the happiness of the believer in Christ is not essen- 



148 CONSOLATION ON THE 

tially impaired by death, or any change which affects 
him in the present world. He is able, on the prin- 
ciples of his faith, to rise superior to all the accidents 
and reverses of time, losing no portion of that vir- 
tuous sensibility without which suffering humanity 
is degraded. '^ Standing on the rock of ages, he can 
look down, with the calmness of unshaken faith, 
upon the agitating billows which are ineffectually 
dashing against its base, and say, ^ This God is my 
God for ever and ever, and will be my guide unto 
death. Thou wilt show me the path of life; in thy 
presence is fulness of joy, and at thy right hand there 
are pleasures for evermore.^ When such a man, 
therefore, is wounded in his affections, or assailed by 
any of those storms of adversity, which so frequently 
sweep over the tempestuous ocean of life, he will find 
the richest consolation in the Divine friendship, and 
hide himself beneath the shadow of Jehovah's wings. 
His feelings, agitated, perhaps, by the first impres- 
sions of calamity, will return to their centre, and 
meet with their proper object in the Supreme parent 
and common friend of all virtuous beings. ' What,^ 
he will be disposed to say, ' are all creatures in hea- 
ven and on earth, who may be most deserving of my 
regard, and most able to increase my happiness, but 
the dim reflections of the uncreated and transcendent 
excellence in which all of them delight, and from 
which each derives a fulness of joy ? What were the 
best friends, whose loss I deplore, more than a few 
scanty streams flowing out from the exuberant pleni- 
tude of the Divine nature? And it is enough, yes. 



LOSS OF FRIENDS. 149 

more than enough, in the absence of these rivulets, 
tainted as they were in their course, to know that the 
fountain of blessedness, whence they proceeded, is 
ever accessible/ '^ 

These considerations point to the grand sources of 
consolation provided by Him who died to reconcile 
us to God. But, through the w^eakness of faith, and 
the infirmities of our common nature, the Christian 
often fails to avail himself, in any due degree, of the 
comfort which they supply. The gospel has, accord- 
ingly, provided other sources of comfort, which, 
though of a subordinate character, come strongly re- 
commended by the advantage of being specifically 
adapted to our case. These arise out of the hope of 
future re-union, and though they will be at once sug- 
gested to the mind of the Christian mourner, it may 
not be improper here to advert to them at large. 

It is natural to turn our attention to the present 
condition of the loved ones who have fallen asleep in 
Christ, concerning whom w^e are not to " sorrow even 
as others who have no hope.^' In the present world, 
it is a case of frequent occurrence for persons to part 
w^ith those to whom they are most attached, and even 
to reconcile their minds to a separation, when such a 
sacrifice holds out to the objects of their regard the 
prospect of some mere temporal advantage, which may 
promote their comfort, and respectability in life. In 
how many instances do parents give up their chil- 
dren, and even cheerfully make the necessary ar- 
rangements for conveying them to some distant land, 
where they may honourably serve their country, or 
14 



150 CONSOLATION ON THE 

secure a comfortable independence? It is found on 
such occasions to be no small alleviation to be assured 
of their welfare. And now what is there, we askj, 
but unbelief, to hinder the Christian, whose friends 
sleep in Jesus, from appropriating to himself a class 
of consolations analogous in kind, but superior in de- 
gree, to the best supposable alleviations which can be 
realized by earthly friends placed at a distance from 
each other? 

What is thetestimony of God concerning those who 
sleep in Jesus? Does he not assure us that even the 
very bodies of our departed Christian friends, will 
in due time feel his quickening power, and come 
forth from the grave in the freshness and beauty of 
immortal life? Death doth not involve the utter de- 
struction of the corporeal frames which once en- 
shrined the souls of holy men. They will arise and 
live on the morning of the resurrection. The graves 
in which they are deposited are but beds of rest, from 
which, when the Saviour calls them, they will awake, 
and experience a change inconceivably superior to 
that which is felt by the healthy labourer, who, after 
a night of undisturbed repose, opens his eyes upon 
the glowing creation, which he goes forth to meet, 
exulting, like itself, in the strength and freshness of 
resuscitated life.^ 

But, the consideration most adapted to minister 
consolation under sorrow for the dead, arises from 
the present condition of the disembodied spirits of 
righteous men. True, the Scriptures give us little 

* Vide Muston. 



LpSS OF FRIENDS. 151 

more than general and indefinite descriptions of the 
happiness of the believer when he has entered into 
rest. But it is sufficient for us to know that the 
righteous immediately after death are " in joy and 
felicity/^ where their spirits are enriched by the same 
virtues, remembrances, and intellectual powers, 
which constituted the value of their friendship on 
earth, — that they are free from sin, conformed to the 
divine image, and advanced to the highest degrees of 
glory which, in their disembodied state, they are able 
to enjoy. The testimony of the Spirit is, "Blessed 
are the dead who die in the Lord, — they rest from 
their labours,~and their works do follow them.'^ 
The very event which has brought sadness over your 
mind, has proved to them the happiest circumstance 
in their existence. It has introduced them into a 
safe retreat from much evil, and made them un- 
speakably happy. Besides, you may soon join your 
pious friends, and, w^th them, be for ever wuth the 
Lord. Remember, too, that revelation holds out not 
only the hope of the certain renewal of your friend- 
ships, but also the recovery of them, with immense 
and mutual advantage. In the present world, there 
is, generally, something to abate the pleasure which 
springs from the renewed intercourse of faithful and 
long absent friends. They meet, and find that time 
has been busy with each other. The efiects of dis- 
ease, or the infirmities of advancing years, tell them 
of the instability and perishableness of human things. 
Tales of sorrow, too, it may be, are exchanged with 
respect to sad reverses affecting the comfort, the use- 



152 CONSOLATION ON THE 

fulness* or what is worse than all, the character, of 
those who experience them. Few gratifications, 
however, are to be compared with the pleasure which 
is often felt by sincere and attached friends, who, 
perhaps, after a protracted separation, meet in health, 
peace, and growing prosperity. Let the bereaved 
Christian, then, reflect upon the bright prospects of 
eternity, and consider how much these are fitted to 
reconcile him to the loss of his best friends. When 
he meets them in a better world, he will behold in 
them, as they in him, nothing to occasion pain, and 
every thing that can tend to exalt the pleasures of 
their restored friendship. Being perfectly holy and 
happy in the Paradise of God, there will be, recipro- 
cally, confidence without suspicion, esteem without 
disapprobation, satisfaction without regret, and love 
without the selfish emotions which now so frequently 
disturb the harmony and imbitter the enjoyments of 
social life. They will enter on an intercourse which 
will be as durable as their deathless natures. And we 
have reason to believe, that the future friendship of 
the just, containing within itself the principle of pro- 
gressive improvement, will advance in excellence, 
and multiply its effects throughout illimitable ages. 
If these are the circumstances in which the believer 
expects to behold those of his friends who have en- 
tered before him into the world of blessedness, the 
prospect is surely one which may welj support his 
mind under the temporary loss of their society, and 
cause his heart to overflow with thankfulness to 

God.^ 

* Vide Muston. 



LOSS OF FRIENDS. 153 

The future world, thus contemplated, becomes 
more and more endeared to us by the loss of our 
friends. We learn to regard it as the home of those 
whom we knew and loved during their sojourn upon 
the earth. All its subordinate attractions are in- 
creased, and, in a manner, familiarized, by the in- 
roads of death; and thus we find it 

" Sweet as year by year we lose 
Friends out of sight, in faitli to muse 
How grows in Paradise our store." 

Look not, then, to the breathless body and devour- 
ing grave, — hang not over the melancholy contempla- 
tion of thy bereavement, nor regard thy valued friend 
as for ever lost to thee; — look forward rather to a 
blissful meeting: a day is coming, happy, glorious 
day, when thou shalt be free from all the anguish of 
distressful sorrow: when thy eyes shall weep no 
more, nor thy heart ache, when thou shalt ascend to 
the paradise of God, there to abide in increasing bliss 
for ever and ever. There shall the enraptured pa- 
rents receive again their much loved child: there 
the child, with transport, shall meet his parents in 
joy, over whose graves, with jfilial duty, he dropped 
affectionate tears: there shall the disconsolate widow 
cease her complaints: and her orphans, orphans no 
more, shall recite their tale of distress to the father, 
distress even pleasing to recollect, now that happi- 
ness is its result, and heaven its end. There, too, 
shall the soft sympathies of endearing friendship be 
renewed: the affectionate sisters shall congratulate 
each other, and faithful friends shall mingle con- 

14* 



154 CONSOLATION ON LOSS OF FRIENDS. 

verse, interests, amities, and walk high in bliss with 
God himself; while all shall join in one triumphant 
acknowledgment, — "Unto him that loved us, and 
washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath 
made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; 
to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. 
Amen.'^ 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 155 



CHAPTER X. 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 

Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene; 
Resumes them, to prepare us for the next. 



YODNG. 



We have endeavoured to show in the course of 
this vs^ork, that our holy religion is favourable to 
the hope of future reunion betv^een Christian friends, 
and ultimately of recovered intercourse in all its per- 
fection. It has been also attempted to make a prac- 
tical use of this doctrine, in laying open the rich 
stores of consolation with which it is fraught for the 
Christian who sorrows for the dead in Christ. It 
now only remains to show the practical influence 
which the whole subject should have on our lives. 
Should it not as thus presented, dispose us to a 
ready compliance with the will of Divine Providence, 
and to a pious and becoming resignation under all 
the trials, disappointments, and calamities of life? 
The true child of God cannot yield to despondency, 
since he is permitted to indulge the hope, that, in a 
little time, all shall be well, and that he shall 

" Join those who have gone before '' 
in the realm of everlasting felicity. In this blessed 



156 CONCLUDING REMARKS. 

hope, he forgets the sharpness of his pain; and looks 
forward to that happy state wher€ he shall be released 
from all he would abandon, and united to all he can 
desire. Do you earnestly covet to be restored to those 
who were once near and dear to you, but who are now 
^^ in joy and felicity/^ waiting their ^' perfect consum- 
mation and bliss, both in body and soul, in eternal and 
everlasting glory ?^^ It is only by repentance towards 
God, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that you can 
hope to realize your desire. Christ is the author of 
salvation only to them that believe and obey him : 
obedience is the evidence of penitence and faith. You 
are required to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, 
and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this 
present world. Future happiness is accorded only 
to the pure in heart: nay, St. Paul assures us that 
'^ without holiness no man shall see the Lord.'^ This 
is not only a condition^ but also a necessary quali- 
Jication for the happiness of heaven. To see God 
is to be happy; and to be like God is to see Him. 
So, then, if you allow yourself the indulgence of any 
known sin, you interrupt at once }^our hopes of hea- 
ven, and render yourself unfit for it. You defeat the 
designs of God's grace; as salvation itself cannot save 
you, if you render yourself incapable of the happi- 
ness which God so graciously tenders you in Christ 
Jesus. There must be assimilation to the better 
world in those who are admitted to its society and 
enjoyments — there must be an approximation to the 
Divine nature — a possession of the mind which was 
in Christ Jesus our Lord — and a union to him by a 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 157 

true and living faith. If you would associate with 
angels and archangels — if you would mingle with 
dear friends, and see Jesus as he is, you must pre- 
viously be conformed to God, and transformed as to 
the w^orld — you must be made meet for the inhe- 
ritance of the saints in light. The way to heaven^ 
or the way of salvation^ therefore^ is the way of 

HOLINESS. 

While, then, as Christians, we indulge the most 
ardent feelings of gratitude to God the Father, whose 
love provided for the eternal felicity of his people, — 
to God the Son whose blood purchased it, — and to 
God the Holy Ghost, who alone can prepare us for 
its enjoyment; let us ever remember the apostolic 
admonition, "seeing we look for such things, what 
manner of persons ought w^e to be in all holy con- 
versation and godliness ?^^ And let us " take heed 
lest a promise being left us of entering into His rest, 
any of us should seem to come short of it.^^ May it 
be our daily concern to be prepared for the glory 
which shall be revealed: and may we remember, 
that they, and only they, who do the commandments 
of the King of glory on earth, w^ho submit to his 
righteous authority, and joyfully accept of the 
mercy which he has provided through the merits 
and righteousness of his beloved Son, shall have a 
right to the tree of life, and shall "enter through the 
gates into the city.'^ 



158 SELECTED POETRY. 



CHAPTER XL 

SELECTED POETRY. 

" When tongues shall cease, and transient science fail, 
The harps of heaven shall catch the undying tale, 
Past ruin's power shall sacred truth embalm 
The hallowed hymn, the heavenly breathing psalm: 
Strains now unhonoured in this world's esteem, 
When earth sinks mute shall be the seraph's theme, 
And all the choirs of blessedness employ, 
The still sweet song of everlasting joy." 

It has been said, that the poet is " the interpreter 
of the human heart — the expounder of its mysteries. 
An utterance is given to him, which is denied to 
others, even although their feelings may be akin to 
his own. We weep over his words, relieved by a 
strange sympathy: We find through him a voice and 
utterance for thoughts too deep for expression; and 
are at once relieved, comforted, and instructed.'^ 
In times of bereavement, when utterly bewildered 
at our own inability of expression, we turn instinc- 
tively to " the deep sad harmonies that haunt his 
breast," and are comforted by the assurance which 
we thus obtain that amid all our afflictions and sor- 
rows our case is not peculiar; we are taught, at least, 
that we are not alone in our distress, but are only 
one of the great brotherhood of sufferers. 



SELECTED POETRY. 159 



*4V0T LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE." 



"Friend after friend departs; 
Who hath not lost a friend? 
There is no union here of hearts^ 

That finds not here an end : 
Were this frail world our final rest. 
Living or dying none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond the reign of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath ; 
Nor life's affections transient fire, 
Whose sparks fly upwards and expire. 

There is a world above. 

Where parting is unknown; 

A long eternity of love, 

Formed for the good alone; 

And faith beholds the dying here. 

Translated to that glorious sphere. 

Thus star by star declines, 
'Till all are passed away, 



160 SELECTED POETRY. 

As morning higher and higher shines, 

To pure and perfect day ; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night, 
But hide themselves in heaven's own light/^- 



RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN. 

" Thus saints on earth ; when sweetly they converse, 
And the dear favours of kind Heaven rehearse, 
Each feels the other's joys, both doubly share 
The blessings which devoutly they compare. 
If saints such mutual joys feel here below, 
When they each other's heavenly foretastes know. 
What joys transport them at each other's sight. 
When they shall meet in empyreal height ! 
Friends, even in heaven, one happiness would miss. 
Should they not know each other when in bliss." 

Bishop Ken. 



THE MOTHER'S SACRIFICE. 

" God loveth the cheerful giver." 

"What shall I render Thee, Father Supreme, 
For thy rich gifts, and this the best of all ?'^ 
Said the young mother, as she fondly watched 
Her sleeping babe. There was an answering voice 
That night in dreams: — 

^^Thou hast a tender flower 
Upon thy breast — fed with the dews of love: 



SELECTED POETRY. 161 

Send me that fiovver. Such flowers there are in hea- 
ven/^ 
But there was silence. Yea^ a hush so deep, 
Breathless and terror-stricken, that the lip 
Blanched in its trance. 

'' Thou hast a little harp, — 
How sweetly would it swell the angels' hymn! 
Yield me that harp.^^ 

There rose a shuddering sob, 
As if the bosom by some hidden sword 
Was cleft in twain. 

Morn came — a blight had found 
The crimson velvet of the unfolding bud, 
The harp-strings rang a thrilling strain, and broke — 
And that young mother lay upon the earth 
In childless agony. Again the voice 
That stirred her vision : 

" He who asked of thee, 
Loveth a cheerful giver.^^ So she raised 
Her gushing eyes, and, ere tlie tear-di-op diied 
Upon its fringes, smiled — and that meek smile, 
Like Abraham's faith, w^is counted righteousness. 

SiGOUKNEY. 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN ONLY DAUGH- 
TER. 

^'I CANNOT feel that she is dead !'' With arm.s about 
me flung, 

Like some bright jewel round my neck, but yester- 
day she hung. 
15 



162 SELECTED POETRY. 

I cannot feel that she is dead ! And oft with throb- 
bing ear 

I list to catch her shout of mirth I loved so well to 
hear. 

I cannot feel that she is dead ! And at her cradle 

side 
V I bend to watch her gentle breath — my blessing and 

my pride ! 
I cannot feel that she is dead ! This ringlet is as fair 
As when upon her sunny brow it fell in beauty there. 
I cannot feel that she is dead! Her shadow passes 

by, 

In every form of grace that glides before my wake- 
ful eye. 

x\nd when I sleep, a vision bright across my fancy 
steals : 

The smile, the tone, the look of love, my early loss 
reveals. 

Once more her fairy foot I hear tread lightly on the 

stair, 
And 1 almost answer to the call^ breathed from 

those lips of air. 
The rose still blooms, she fondly nursed in spring's 

soft, vernal hours; 
Alas! that she should soonest fade, the fairest of the 

flowers. 

Yet, Mother, though thy child be dead, light through 

thy darkness streams, 
As on the ear a low voice falls, like music in our 

dreams, 



SELECTED POETRY. 163 

To soothe thy sadness, quell thy grief, and cheek thy 

tears ^tis given, 
While thus it whispers — "I have found a better home 

in heaven. 

"And, loved ones, as ye watched o'er me, and chased 

away my fears, 
'Tis mine your spirit-guard to be through this dark 

vale of tears. 
To shield from sorrow, save from ill, and fix your 

hopes above^ — 
'Tis this shall be my task of joy, my ceaseless work 

of love ; 

Till in the realm of cloudless light, the pure, blest 

spirit-land, 
Where no sad thought of parting comes, you join 

our seraph band.'' 

Mrs. a. L. Angier. 



THE FATHER TO HIS MOTHERLESS CHILDREN, 

Come gather closer to my side, 

My little smitten flock, 
And 1 will tell of him who brought 

Pure w^ater from the rock: 
Who boldly led God's people forth 

From Egypt's wrath and guile. 
And once a cradled babe did float 

All helpless on the Nile. 

You're weary, precious ones; your eyes 
Are wandering far and wide; 



164 SELECTED rOETRY. 

Think ye of her who knew so well 
Your tender thoughts to guide ? 

Who could to wisdom's sacred lore 
Your fixed attention claim ? 

Ah i never from your hearts erase 
Tliat blessed mother's name. 

'Tis time to sing your evening hymn^ 

My youngest infant dove ; 
Come, press thy velvet cheek to mine, 

And learn the lay of love ; 
My sheltering arms can clasp you all, 

My poor deserted throng ; 
Cling as you used to cling to her 

Who sings the angel's song. 

Begin, sweet birds, the accustomed strain. 

Come, warble loud and clear; 
Alas, alas, you're weeping all, 

You're sobbing in my ear: 
Good-night: go, say the prayer she taught, 

Beside your little bed. 
The lips that used to bless you there, 

Are silent with the dead. 

A father's hand your course may guide 

Amid the storms of life. 
His care protect those shrinking plants 

That dread the storm of strife : 
But who, upon your inf^mt hearts, 

Shall like that mother write? 
Who touch the strings that rule the soul ? 

Dear smitten flock, good night ! 

SiGOURNEY. 



SELECTED POETRY^ 165 

THOUGHTS WHILE MAKING A GRAVE FOR A 
FIRST CHILD, BORN DEAD. 

Room, gentle flowers! my child would pass to heaven! 
Ye looked not for her yet wuth your soft eyes, 
0, watchful ushers at Death's narrow door! 
But lo! w^hile you delay to let her forth. 
Angels, beyond, stay for her! One long kiss 
From lips all pale with agony, and tears, 
Wrung after anguish had dried up with fire 
The eyes that wept them, were the cup of life 
Held as a welcome to her. Weep, mother! 
But not that from this cup of bitterness 
A cherub of the sky has turned away. 

One look upon her face ere she depart! 
My daughter! it is soon to let thee go! 
My daughter! with thy birth has gushed a spring 
1 knew^ not of^ filling my heart with tears. 
And turning with strano-e tenderness lo thee! 
A love — God, it seems so — which must flow 
Far as thou fleest, and 'twixt Heaven and me, , 
Henceforward, be a sweet and yearning chain. 
Drawing me after thee! And so, farewell! 
'Tis a harsh world in which affection knows 
No place to treasure up its loved and lost 
But the lone grave! Thou, who so late w^as sleeping 
Warm in the close folds of a mother's heart, 
Scarce from her breast a single pulse receiving, 
But it was sent thee w^th some tender thought- 
How can I leave thee he7^ef Alas, for m.an ! 
The herb in its humility may fall, 



166 SELECTED POETRY. 

And waste into the bright and genial air. 
While we, by hands that ministered in life 
Nothing but love to us, are thrust away, 
The earth thrown in upon our just cold bosoms. 
And the warm sunshine trodden out for ever! 
Yet have I chosen for thy grave, my child, 
A bank where I have lain in summer hours, 
And thought how little it would seem like death 
To sleep amid such loveliness. The brook 
Tripping with laughter down the rocky steps 
That lead us to thy bed, would still trip on, 
Breaking the dread hush of the mourners gone; 
The birds are never silent that build here, 
Trying to sing down the more vocal waters; 
The slope is beautiful with moss and flowers; 
And, far below, seen under arching leaves, 
Glitters the warm sun on the village spire, 
Pointing the living after thee. And this 
Seems like a comfort, and, replacing now 
The flow^ers that have made room for thee, I go 
To whisper the same peace to her who lies 
Robbed of her child, and lonely. ^Tis the work 
Of many a dark hour, and of many a prayer, 
To bring the heart back from an infant gone! 
Hope must give o'er, and busy fancy blot 
Its images from all the silent rooms, 
And every sight and sound familiar to her 
Undo its sweetest link; and so, at last, 
The fountain that, once loosed, must flow for ever, 
Will hide and waste in silence. When the smile 
Steals to her pallid lip again, and spring 



SELECTED POETRY. 167 

Wakens its buds above thee, we will come. 
And, standing by thy music-haunted grave, 
Look on each other cheerfully, and say, 
*/? child that ive have loved is gone to heaven^ 
And by this gate of flowers she passed away! 

N. P. Willis. 



THE FAREWELL TO THE DEAD. 

Come near ! — ere yet the dust 
Soil the bright paleness of the settled brow. 
Look on your brother and embrace him now, 

In still and solemn trust ! 
Come near ! — once more let kindred lips be pressed 
On his cold cheek ; then bear him to his rest ! 

Look yet on this young face ! 
What shall the beauty from amongst us gone. 
Leave of its image, even where most it shone. 

Gladdening its hearth and race ? 
Dim grows the semblance on man's heart impressed— 
Come near, and bear the beautiful to rest. 

Ye weep, and it is well ! 
For tears befit earth's partings! — Yesterday 
Song was upon the lips of this pale clay. 

And sunshine seemed to dwell 
Where'er he moved — the welcome and the blessed ! 
Now gaze! and bear the silent unto rest! 

Look yet on him, whose eye 
Meets yours no more, in sadness or in mirth! 



168, SELECTED POETRY. 

Was he not fair amidst the sons of earthy 

The beings born to die? 
— But not where death has power may love be blest 
Come near ! and bear ye the beloved to rest! 

How may the mother's heart 
Dwell on her son^ and dare to hope again? 
The spring's rich promise hath been given in vain. 

The lovely must depart! 
Is he not gone, our brightest and our best? 
Come near! and bear the early-called to rest! 

Look on him ! is he laid 
To slumber from the harvest or the chase ? 
— Too still and sad the smile upon his face, 

Yet that, even that, must fade! 
Death holds not long unchanged his fairest guest, 
Come near ! and bear the mortal to his rest! 

His voice of mirth had ceased 
Amidst the vineyards ! there is left no place 
For him whose dust receives your vain embrace, 

At the gay bridal feast! 
Earth must take earth to moulder on her breast ; 
Come near ! weep o'er him ! bear him to his rest ! 

Yet mourn ye not as they 
Whose spirit's light is quenched! — for him the past 
Is sealed. He may not fall, he may not casti 

His birthright's hope away ! 
All is not here of our beloved and blessed — 
— Leave ye the sleeper with his God to rest ! 

Hemans. 



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